


Whenever you look up there I shall be.

by LadyEmrys



Series: Whenever You Look Up [3]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Bottom!Eggsy, Bottom!Harry, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Harry isn't coping well, Hartwin, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Top!Harry, a lot of OCs - Freeform, all the important people anyway, but Merlin helps because they're bros, fluff and the slowest if burns, it'll be worth it, lord so much fluff, more pairings will be added later, mostly everybody lives, pining! Eggsy, prepare for fluff, semi-oblivious! Harry, slight mentions of self harm, snails pace romance here, so much pining, top!Eggsy, with just a smidge of overprotective-mammabear!merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:57:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 114,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3385982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyEmrys/pseuds/LadyEmrys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watching the light spread in those heavy-lidded eyes, seeing the small twitch at the corner of his mouth - the only other physical sign he had strength enough to give - was more than enough to know for sure.</p><p>Eggsy was fucked.</p><p>Or: In a world rapidly descending into anarchy in the wake of V-Day, Kingsman - under the guidance of it's new Arthur - must decide whether or not to abandon its hitherto undercover nature and save the the world from itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nickygp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nickygp/gifts).



_Eggsy was fucked._

“I am fucked, Rox.” 

The girl with hazel eyes heaved a sigh and made her way across the room to join her friend on the edge of the bed. She didn't need to ask why, she had known for some time that her impossibly loud Eggsy had developed an infatuation with their impossibly composed Harry. 

_Their Harry. Our Harry._

The pronouns they attached to him were possessive in private. Roxy knew that people who spoke as Eggsy did often used ‘our’ as a way of cutting out unnecessary explanations of family ties during introductions. 

_This is our David. Our Jackie. Our Emma._

She knew that when he used it with regard to Harry, he meant something wholly different. 

_Our Harry. My Harry._

And apparently he had only just come to terms with that fact, if somewhat ineloquently.

“Well, the way I see it, unless you do something it will only end up effecting your work. Our work. We can't afford that.”

Eggsy still hadn't looked at her. “No offense Rox, but I don’t see how me not telling Harry is gonna effect you.”

“Of course you don’t,” she sighed. “Eggsy?” He dragged a hand through his hair and down over his face, but still he didn’t look at her. 

He still hadn’t torn his eyes off the man in the bed across the room.

“Eggsy. You are my best friend here. Actually, forget that; you are my best friend period. You’ve done everything you could to be there for me when I needed you. You helped me in training and sat with me when I missed home. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t do the same for you? Friends help, Eggsy. And if you need my help getting some then I’ll do my best to find a gentlemen to suit your…particular taste.”

_There_. There was the reaction she’d been trying to provoke.

Eggsy sat up straighter, turned sharply to look at her, then back at the man lying still under the thin sheets. For a moment the room was silent, save for the quiet chirping of the medical paraphernalia dutifully monitoring its patient. 

“You don’t get it Rox. If I’d wanted a quick fuck I’d have found some posh twat who looked just enough like him to take the edge off, yeah?”

“And haven’t you?” 

“I don’t want to take the edge off Rox.”

_Well. That was unexpected._

Immediately she felt guilty for assuming that Eggsy’s feeling for Harry didn’t go beyond simple lust and curiosity. She was almost sorry she ever asked how he felt about the older man. Almost. _“Like a dog with a bone,"_ Merlin had once said.

“Forgive me for what I’m about to say,” she began hesitantly, “but I thought this was just a crush. That was what you told me, wasn’t it? That this was just some silly infatuation?”

“It was.” He shifted on the bed. Settled. Turned his body to her, but kept his eyes on him. “It started out that way.”

It had, in fact, started out as more than a simple, innocent crush. 

Gary ‘Eggsy’ Unwin was never particular when it came to pleasures of the flesh. He took what came to him - be they man, woman, or whoever else they liked to call themselves - because Eggsy liked sex. Sex was good.

Simple.

Eggsy knew he was good looking, and he knew how to use it to get what he wanted. He was confident. He didn’t falter. Eggsy went out to drink in certain places he didn’t dare tell his friends about. He wasn’t afraid of them disowning him, after all, Jamal had a gay cousin living a few streets up. He was just worried that somehow it would get back to Dean. Dean wouldn’t let him live it down. So Eggsy learnt to keep it quiet. Lied to his mum about being out with his boys, lied to his boys about staying in to look after his baby sister. But he got what he wanted when he visited certain places with certain people who found him damn near irresistible. 

And then he met Harry Hart. From the moment he turned around to see Harry leaning up against that wall, Eggsy was in lust. There was nothing innocent about it. No blushing or shy glances when no one was looking. Eggsy stared, and Eggsy liked what he saw; Eggsy knew what he wanted.

The beautiful man in his beautiful suit.

It all went downhill from there. He was prepared for a quick drink and an equally quick ‘thank you for getting me out of an eighteen month prison sentence’ fuck. He was not prepared for watching Dean’s goons getting their shit kicked in with an umbrella.

_And fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen._

Other guys wanted to be James Bond. Eggsy rather fancied he’d settle for fucking the guy.

He was also entirely unprepared for the job interview and everything else that followed.

He learnt to hide his feelings, of course, unsure of how well the super-secret and super-conservative spy agency would handle his predilections, especially if they were directed at Galahad. Unfortunately for Eggsy, a predilection for men in suits quickly developed into a predilection for just one, very specific man in a very specific suit, which wasted no time developing into something that could no longer be encompassed by the word lust. He bypassed simple crush completely.

Eggsy was in love. At least, that’s what he assumed the uncomfortable tightening in his gut mixed with a warmth he’d only ever felt for his mum and sister meant. This wasn’t a family kind of love. This was more. Eggsy watched Harry, trying to take in every little bit of him he could. He studied him. The way he walked, or the way he tugged on his cufflinks when he was late or nervous, not that it was particularly easy to tell when he was nervous, but he was almost always late. He watched him eat and drink, studied how Harry cushioned the glass with his pinkie finger so it didn’t clatter down on the table the way it did when Eggsy tried. He saw Harry’s mouth quirk to the side as he watched Merlin shout at them when they fucked up their training, and waited for the same little quirk to appear as Harry listened to Merlin tell him off for keeping Arthur waiting. He noticed how every time there was a sudden noise, the hand nearest Eggsy would twitch to the side, as though he was preparing to jump between Eggsy and whatever came, so ready to protect him.

And Eggsy fell in love with everything he saw, every little bit of Harry.

He told Roxy everything. She sat quietly, carefully processing the information and planning her response as she always did. Not like Eggsy. He responded with the first thing that came to mind. Harry had been trying to break him of that habit. 

She still hadn’t said anything, so he cleared his throat, “It was bad enough when he was out of it the first time. Everyone was so sure he’d come back. Its different now though, innit? Merlin doesn’t come round much anymore, its like he’s given up.” 

He felt her grab his hand and enclose it in hers. She lifted his chin up. “Eggsy. I don’t know what to tell you. I know very little about head injuries. But Merlin thinks that there’s still a chance Harry could pull through.”

“Should’ve gone back for him.”

“We couldn’t. We thought he was dead.”

“Should’ve checked.” 

Eggsy was quiet after that, and nothing Roxy said could draw him back into a conversation. She stayed with him in silence for another hour, before persuading him that going hungry wasn’t the best way to help Harry. She left Eggsy with a kiss to his brow and the promise of bringing him back something hot to eat. 

Roxy had only been gone for a few minutes before Eggsy noticed the laboured breathing. At first he thought JB had gotten in, but Merlin was being very strict about letting the animal near harry in his condition, regardless of how much the little pug missed the man that smelt so good. 

He was on his knees checking the floor for a plump, curly tailed stowaway when realised that Harry’s machines were beeping strangely. He stood up, dusted his knees off and approached the bed with the intention of checking that everything was properly connected. When he reached the foot of Harry’s bed he stopped. 

Harry’s eyes were open. 

Harry’s eyes were wide open and he was staring, panicked, right at Eggsy. 

Wiping his sweaty palm on his thighs he slowly reached out to take Harry’s hand, fearing any sudden movements might startle the man in the bed. Tired, brown eyes stayed fixed on blue, dropping only once to track the movement of the hand inching towards his. 

It stopped before it could reach his thumb. 

Harry’s eyes darted back up to meet Eggsy’s, and even through the drug induced fog clouding his mind, he desperately wanted to take away any trace of insecurity he found there.  
Slowly, painfully, and with not an inconsiderable amount of effort, Harry stretched out his thumb to meet the tips of Eggsy’s fingers, willing him to get the message. 

Eggsy stiffened. 

Breaking contact with Harry’s pleading gaze he glanced down at the older man’s fingers twitching to reach his. His tongue darted out over his chapped lips, and with an audible gulp he moved his hand to meet Harry’s, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as the older man weakly wrapped his thumb and forefinger around Eggsy’s. 

Watching the light spread in those heavy-lidded eyes, seeing the small twitch at the corner of his mouth - the only other physical sign he had strength enough to give - was more than enough to know for sure.

_Eggsy was fucked._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needed something solid to hold on to, something tangible to remind him that Eggsy was safe, that he hadn’t failed the boy’s father. Getting shot in the head had put a lot of things into perspective and made him reconsider his priorities. He’d done a lot of things he regretted in his life; he’d failed so many people. He needed to be sure he hadn’t failed the one that mattered most.

The pain was excruciating. That was the first thing he noticed.

The next was that the room was too bright, his throat was too dry, his arms were too heavy and the pain was still excruciating.

Harry Hart had been shot before. Of course he had. If he wasn’t being shot at he wasn’t doing his job. He’d taken bullets in almost every part of his body he could think of, but no one had ever managed to catch him so off guard. He’d never had the pleasure of taking one to the head. 

He shouldn’t have dropped the axe.

He shouldn’t have done a lot of things. He probably shouldn’t have gone to Kentucky alone, but then again if he hadn’t then someone else would have been hurt. If protocol had been followed then it would have been the newly appointed Lancelot. Had it not been for the love he had for that daft dog that someone could easily have been Eggsy.

As Harry was meticulously cataloguing his surroundings – too clean, two way mirror, overpowering scent of Dettol, _HQ then_ – he became aware that he wasn’t the only one in the room. 

From over the ridges created in the bed sheets by his legs he could just make out an achingly familiar navy snapback.

_Eggsy._

The hat rose and then rest of Eggsy came into view. As he made his way towards the bed Harry took in the rumpled tracksuit that had obviously been slept in but was overcome with relief at seeing the boy safe and unharmed. He started again as he settled his gaze on the boy’s face and found a new scar marking his pale forehead.

_Safe but not entirely unharmed, then._

Eggsy stopped suddenly at the foot of his bed, having only just noticed his mentor’s conscious state. Try as he might Harry couldn’t school his expression into something more neutral to mask his worry at discovering this new addition, and – having never witnessed any expression of worry on Harry’s normally passive face - to Eggsy it came across as fear. The younger man started slowly reaching out to take Harry’s hand, but stopped just inches short of actually taking it. 

For Harry those scant few inches were agony. 

He needed something solid to hold on to, something tangible to remind him that Eggsy was safe, that he hadn’t failed the boy’s father. Getting shot in the head had put a lot of things into perspective and made him reconsider his priorities. He’d done a lot of things he regretted in his life; he’d failed so many people. He needed to be sure he hadn’t failed the one that mattered most. 

Summoning what little strength he had left, Harry desperately stretched his fingers out to reach his protégé’s, praying that Eggsy would understand what he needed. 

Warmth flooded though him as Eggsy seemed to understand what he wanted and brought their fingers together. Harry wrapped his thumb and forefinger around Eggsy’s and sank back into the soft, medical grade pillows that stank of detergent – having been disinfected to with an inch of their life, if he knew Merlin at all – feeling far more relaxed than he had in years.

Unable to speak he urged Eggsy with a carefully deliberate glance to the side to take the seat next to the bed. His cracked lips twitched upwards as the younger man did so without breaking contact between their fingers.

Eggsy shuffled the seat as close to the bed as possible and tightened his grip on Harry’s hand. 

He reached out to push a strand of hair from Harry’s face, and Harry sighed as the cool fingers brushed his fevered skin, making a weak noise of protest when the hand quickly pulled back. He let his eyes drift closed as the back of a hand was gently placed against his forehead. 

They had been sitting in comfortable silence for less than a minute when the door was suddenly wrenched open.

Merlin had cleverly left a pair of glasses recording on the table beside Harry’s bed - just in case he was needed - and had come running as soon as he saw Harry waking up through his feed. As he entered the room with Roxy in tow Eggsy jerked his hand back as if he’d been burnt.

Merlin began poking and prodding him muttering under his breath about scaring them all and threatening to kill him when he got better. As he surrendered himself to Merlin’s ministrations Harry noticed Eggsy rubbing his neck as be backed away and made his way over to stand beside Roxy. He also noticed the look of concern she gave him as she placed her hand on his forearm, and the shake of his head as he pulled back.

Harry had one last coherent thought before he was pulled into medicated darkness. 

_Now what was that I wonder?_

When Harry woke again, he was greeted by the sight of Merlin hovering over his bed, fiddling with the tape that held his intravenous drip in, and a very patient JB trying with all his might not to jump into Harry’s bed. 

Eggsy was nowhere to be seen.

Harry huffed out a quiet laugh that drew Merlin’s attention to him, and a glass of tepid water complete with straw was lifted towards his face. He gratefully accepted the offered drink, though had enough sense not to drain the glass in one go. After a few sips to soothe his aching throat he let the straw fall from between his lips and watched Merlin place the glass back on the table beside him. When he turned back to face him he placed his hands under Harry’s jaw to tilt it up and gestured to the breathing tube currently lodged in his throat. Harry nodded and prepared for the painful scratch of coughing up the tube. As soon as it was removed Merlin was lifting the glass back to Harry’s lips.

When Merlin left to refill the glass Harry turned his head to the side to find himself the subject of JB’s intense stare. With a smile he slowly patted the space on the bed beside his legs. The little pug wasted no time in leaping up to join him.

“I don’t know why you’re so determined to let that creature slobber all over you, s’not hygienic, Harry.”

“He might be considerably fatter than Mr. Pickles, but he’s no less affectionate.”

“Neither is his owner.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing.”

The two men lapsed into silence as Merlin carefully redressed Harry’s head wound. Once the soiled bandages had been discarded - and Merlin had presented Harry with a fresh cup of water – a chair was pulled up beside a bed and Merlin prepared himself to breach a difficult topic. 

“All I’m saying, is that that boy hasn’t left your side since you woke up, not even when I put you under again. I’ve only just gotten him away with the promise that the dog could stand in for him as a bodyguard, which wasn’t, by the way,” Merlin gave JB a hard look, “an invitation for you to get your nasty dog saliva all over my patient.”

“One has no difficulty believing that you are a cat man, Merlin.” 

Harry knew Merlin didn’t approve of favouritism, and he knew that he would have to start treating Eggsy like any other Kingsman sooner or later. He was proud of his boy for making it, for making him proud. 

Even if he couldn’t shoot the dog.

Although - with the pug in his lap, slobbering over the hand that scratched his chin – Harry could see why Eggsy had grown so attached to the animal. He began to lose his train of thought as he dragged his fingers over JB’s fur, the little pug didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. 

“Harry?” 

Harry blinked, Merlin’s concerned face coming into focus beside him. “Forgive me, I was distracted. Nothing serious. You were saying?”

“I was asking what you were going to do about your boy.”

_My boy? Yes, I rather suppose he is, isn’t he._

“I understand there’s no room for favouritism anymore. That being said, Merlin, you can’t expect me to take that much of a step back all things considered. I made a promise to that child all those years ago. I made a promise over his father’s grave. I’ve gotten him this far and although I am perfectly aware he is capable of looking after himself now I’m not about to stop keeping an eye on him.”

“And that’s it?”

His incredulous tone gave Harry pause. “What more is there?”

Merlin silently regarded Harry for a moment before realisation dawned. 

_I’ll have to talk to Roxy._

“Merlin?”

“Sorry Harry,” Merlin said, without breaking eye contact, “just something I forgot to give Roxy, you reminded me.” He slouched back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest with an air of relaxation that let Harry know that whatever had bothered him had passed. 

“I’m glad you’re alright, there wasn’t going to be nearly enough time to train candidates for both you and Arthur, as well as pseudo-assuming the role myself.”

“Good, you were considering candidates for Arthur too?” 

“Yes, why?” 

“You would have been a shit Arthur, Robert.” 

“Thanks, Harry.”

Harry heard the quiet knock at the door as Merlin was crossing the room. Without waiting for an answer Eggsy opened and stepped into the room.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were still in here Merlin. Do you need me to go or –” Merlin cut him off with an assurance that he was finished with Harry, but that he needed rest. After receiving Eggsy’s promise that he wouldn’t keep Harry up too late, Merlin left them alone and went to find Roxy.

Eggsy was painfully aware that Harry was much more alert than he had been when he first woke up, and was fervently hoping that he didn’t remember Eggsy practically caressing his forehead. He chanced a glance upwards to find Harry staring it at him with a fond, bemused smile. 

“Still haven’t learnt how to wait for permission before entering a room I see.” 

He said it with that little smile tugging at the corner of his lips and didn’t it just hit Eggsy like a punch to his stomach. When he didn’t say anything Harry’s brow furrowed and he gestured for Eggsy to take the seat Merlin had just vacated.

Harry held out his hand as soon as Eggsy sat and couldn’t for all the world figure out what that twitch at the corner of the younger man’s eye as their hands met meant.

_Interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically its been tomorrow for 30 mins and I was so pleased with the feedback that I couldn't help but keep writing so here it is.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy let himself be drawn into the warmth and safety of the older man’s arms, too stunned to do anything other than return the embrace. He hadn’t realised how much he needed this. Harry’s hands slowly rubbed along Eggsy’s back, and Eggsy’s arms tightened around Harry’s waist in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thanks to another mid morning coffee break (why is it that I can find the time to write a 6k word fic about these two dorks in suits but I can't find the time to write a 2000 word essay that determines my grade in this module this year?) you get this rather long chapter. I'm also toying with the idea of setting up a blog for this fic on tumblr, so I can bounce ideas about and update on when chapters will be up, because - again thanks to coffee breaks - this fic just got a whole lot bigger than planned.

Eggsy was so very, _very_ late.

He sat alone in the Kingsman shuttle - nervously fiddling with a loose thread in the tracksuit bottoms he had haphazardly thrown on before racing to the shop – and wishing he had worn his suit. But he was already late. Unspeakably late.

 _Just staying in character, eh?_ came the smug voice in his head. Oh, how he hated that voice. It had gotten him into so much trouble. 

_Although_ , countered a part of his conscious more capable of reason, _Harry would appreciate the faithful continuation of Galahad’s reputation._

Eggsy huffed out a laugh, but figured that while Harry might have been able to get away with turning up for meetings only after everyone else had gone, that was because he was Harry. And Harry Hart commanded that kind of respect. Eggsy wasn’t so sure he did. 

Especially not when he was late for Harry.

Today was the day that they were finally letting Harry out of the terrible medical ward - though perhaps only to stop him trying to escape from Merlin’s clutches - and back into his own house. A house that Eggsy now shared with him mother and sister. A fact Eggsy wasn’t entirely sure Harry was aware of.

He’d been dreading the meeting between his mother and Harry since he first discovered Harry’s impending release. Really he should have known that they’d eventually meet. But since his own house was still being converted to allow room for his little family, they’d been placed in Harry’s. He didn’t care at the time, he was just happy to get his mum and sister away from Dean. 

_Dean._

Dean was still recovering from a shattered leg, broken nose and fractured skull. His goons were in a similar, but less debilitating state of health.

_Revenge à la Eggsy._

He’d never seen his mum so happy. She wasn’t fearfully looking over her shoulder anymore. She didn’t frantically scope the room every time she entered it. She never had to shoo him out as soon as he came through the door to sop him being beaten. She would never have to put herself between her children and harm’s way again. Not if Eggsy had anything to say about it.

He’d easily slipped back into caring for his little family, even after being away from it for so long. Merlin had kindly provided some incredibly threatening-looking men to watch over his old flat as his mum collected all of her things. He saw one of Dean’s newest recruits the first night - hanging about by the metal gate - but he’d scarpered pretty quickly after spotting the two bodyguards posted at the front door. 

No one had been sent round since.

His mum had accepted the house with no hesitation or suspicion. Eggsy supposed it was because she was too grateful to question it. She did have some qualms about the décor, but resigned herself to not being able to touch anything until they were in their own house. 

Eggsy had assumed that the little Parisian-esque cul-de-sac Harry lived on was occupied by other civilian residents. Turned out the entire area was owned by Kingsman, and the posh houses around him were completely empty until they were needed, and were only designed to look lived in so as to avoid suspicion. He was amazed to discover that there was an entire team of people whose sole job was to go in and out of the houses and move things around, just to give the impression that they were occupied. Eggsy was given a choice of three, however, and no one was in the least bit surprised when he chose the house adjacent to Harry. 

When they arrived it was fitted as a standard show home, though only for the rooms with windows facing onto the street. The rest were completely empty, with pale wooden flooring and blank, white walls. The other problem was that it didn’t have enough room for all three of them. When Eggsy had discovered this he, albeit disappointedly, insisted that they could take one that didn’t have to be renovated. His worries were immediately dismissed, and he was assured that the house would be redesigned to his specifications. He suspected Merlin might have had something to do with it, knowing how important it was for Eggsy to be near Harry after what had happened. 

He graciously let his mum have most of the input into the planning, and was already calculating how much of his first pay check could go towards decorating and furnishings. He needed to do this for his her. After all the shit she’d been through; she deserved somewhere she could call home. 

He hadn’t planned on it taking as long as it had, and began to panic when Merlin caught him at the beginning of the week to tell him that Harry was being sent home. _“He’s your problem now,”_ Merlin had said.

Problem was an understatement. The last time his mother had been in the same room as Harry Hart her whole world had come crashing down around her. Eggsy shuddered to think how she’d react to finding out that her baby boy was working with the very same people who had been responsible for his dad’s death. 

However, none of this worry was any use to him now. Especially not since he’d just arrived at HQ with no explanation prepared for Merlin, who would undoubtedly be furious at how late he actually was. 

_Should've taken the taxi,_ he thought as he approached Merlin’s desk, _then I could have blamed the traffic and pretended I forgot about the shuttle._

That would have been a much better plan.

He came to stand beside Merlin, but before he could open his mouth to try and explain himself Merlin had cut him off by directing him to go to Harry’s room, assuring him that the taxi would be waiting for them at the front entrance.

Eggsy quietly murmured his thanks and headed in the direction of the medical room, not wanting to engage the man in further conversation lest he incur yet another lecture on the importance of time keeping. 

_He’d had enough of those to last him a lifetime._

He paused before reaching out to open Harry’s door.

_Maybe if I knock first and wait then Harry won’t be so upset with me being this late._

He straightened his back, took a deep breath, and gently rapped on the glass. He waited. At Harry’s faint call of “Come in, Eggsy,” he peeked around the door and prepared to give Harry his winning ‘I’m sorry but I know you’re going to forgive me anyway’ smile. He was not prepared for the sight that met him.

Harry’s belongings had been precisely packed into a small brown travelling case that was lying open on the freshly laundered sheets. The red satin robe was folded neatly over the chair beside the bed, with his slippers sitting perfectly parallel beside one another. Everything was spotless.

The man in the bed was decidedly less so.

He was only wearing one shoe, for a start. As Eggsy’s eyes travelled upwards he took in the rumpled trousers and the suspenders draped across his lap. Strands of Harry’s usually perfect hair were falling into his eyes. The shock of never having seen Harry anything less than impeccably well put together wasn’t what stopped him in his tracks. No, it was the fact that Harry’s shirt was hanging open, the pale throat and chest exposed.

Eggsy tried to swallow and coughed as he found his throat had become unexpectedly dry. 

The cough drew Harry’s attention. He turned his frustrated gaze towards Eggsy and impatiently gestured for him to approach the bed. 

“I’m not terribly coordinated today I’m afraid, feeling a bit faint actually. For simplicity’s sake I decided to forgo any unnecessary articles of clothing, hence my lack of undershirt. I was attempting to put my other shoe on when a sudden spell of dizziness overcame me, and I’ve been sitting here ever since. I’m terribly sorry to ask this of you Eggsy, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do the rest of it myself. Do you think you could-” Harry chanced a look up at Eggsy, but stopped mid-sentence at finding the young man simply standing there, staring at him. 

“Eggsy?” He asked softly.

Harry’s voice brought Eggsy’s mind – and eyes, both of which had been entirely preoccupied with the sight of Harry Hart peeking up at him through his eyelashes – away from the older man’s state of undress and back to the question that was being asked of him. 

“Um, yeah.” He coughed again, “Yes - of course, Harry.”

He shakily knelt before the older man and helped ease his foot into his shoe before tying it and its partner. Trying very hard not to concentrate on being so close to Harry’s naked chest, he pulled the older man off the bed and buttoned his shirt for him, deciding it was better if he let Harry tuck it into his trousers. The suit jacket came next, and Eggsy was most certainly not delighting in the scent of Harry’s cologne as he eased the older man’s arms into the sleeves. 

And he definitely did not let his hands linger as they smoothed out the creases along Harry’s chest and shoulders. 

He had taken a step back to admire his work – and in no way appreciate the man in front of him – when he noticed that Harry’s hair was still out of place. Before his brain could catch on to, and put a stop to, what his hand was planning, he had reached out and ever so gently brushed the hair from Harry’s face. When his mind finally caught up he stiffened and stared, wide-eyed at Harry, with his hand still tangled in his mentor’s hair. 

Harry, although slightly confused by the hand resting on his head, was not particularly perturbed by its presence, though he still felt he had to draw attention to it, as well as the terrified look on Eggsy’s face. 

“Are you alright, Eggsy?” He spoke gently as he reached up to remove the boy’s hand. 

The little voice in Eggsy’s mind was screaming at him.

_Say something you moron, anything!_

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Harry.” His voice caught at the end, and he realised how true that statement was.

Harry’s face instantly softened, “Oh, Eggsy.” Using the grip he still had on the younger man’s hand, he pulled Eggsy towards him so that his head rested on Harry’s shoulder. He dropped the hand he was holding and wrapped both his arms securely around his charge.

Eggsy let himself be drawn into the warmth and safety of the older man’s arms, too stunned to do anything other than return the embrace. He hadn’t realised how much he needed this. Harry’s hands slowly rubbed along Eggsy’s back, and Eggsy’s arms tightened around Harry’s waist in response.

All too soon Harry gently pushed Eggsy back, but kept both his hands resting on his shoulders. Whatever Eggsy had planned on saying died in his throat when he saw the warmth in Harry’s eyes and the softness of his smile. It was all he could do to smile tightly back and blink away the tears that he felt springing to his eyes. 

_Shit._

Without saying anything Harry stepped back and turned to finish packing his dressing gown and slippers. He began to lift it off the bed, but before he could Eggsy had composed himself and took the handle from him with a smirk and a wink.

Harry sighed and let himself be lead through the door that was opened for him and along the lower levels of HQ. The two unconsciously fell into step with each other, but remained in comfortable silence. When they reached the surface the taxi was waiting for them, just as Merlin had promised. 

The taxi ride back to the house was one of the most and yet least comfortable experiences of Eggsy’s life. He never thought he’d see Harry sitting so casually - legs splayed open with his arms slung over the top of the back seats – and he relished the ease with which he could talk to the other man, but with Harry’s right leg touching his and his arm practically around Eggsy’s shoulder, not to mention the still-intoxicating smell of expensive cologne, Eggsy was beginning to have a rather difficult time trying to hide the fact that he was half hard in his trackies. 

He thanked whoever was listening that Harry hadn’t noticed. 

When the car pulled up outside the house Eggsy took a moment to adjust himself as he walked behind the taxi to open Harry’s door. He held out his hand to the help the other man out of the seat, but was casually waved off as Harry used the door to pull himself up and stilled for a moment, making sure he was steady enough on his own feet to walk unaided. Eggsy smirked privately at his stubbornness.

The driver was already unloading Harry’s things when Eggsy remembered about the other occupants of Harry’s house.

One moment Harry was reaching out to turn the handle on his own front door, the next he was almost nose to cheek with a petrified Eggsy who seemed determined to keep his left hand from opening the door by breaking it. 

Too startled to be angry, all he could manage was a surprised, “I beg your pardon?”

Eggsy’s eyes darted to the side and back again before he settled his stare on Harry’s perplexed face. Taking a very deep breath he prepared to both explain himself and warn Harry about his mother’s presence. What actually slipped out was something to that effect.

“We were told to pick a house, only I picked the wrong one, see, ‘cause it was close to you– wait no not just ‘cause it was close to you, I mean it’s a real nice house and mum liked it but then there wasn’t enough room for us all and I said I could pick a new one, but they said it was fine they could fix it and we could live in yours ‘till it was done, only I’m not sure anyone actually told you and mum’s gonna shit herself when she sees you.”

Astounded that the younger man managed to spew it all out in a single breath, Harry simply blinked.

“I am aware of this, yes.”

“What?”

“Do you think Merlin would have kept something like this from me? One of the first things he said to me when I came to was that I should expect some houseguests.”

“…what?”

“Eggsy, the first time I met your mother I told her that her husband was dead and there wasn’t anything anyone could do. I’m quite prepared for our second meeting.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh. Now, if you please?” He gestured to the door Eggsy was still firmly pressed against.

Eggsy swallowed and slowly stepped aside to let Harry turn the handle. “Thank you,” Harry smiled calmly and took a shaky stride over the threshold. Using the banister for balance he carefully approached the living room, picking his way over the toys that littered the floor. He reached the door and found that a pop-up playpen had been erected in front of the fire. The occupant of said playpen was peering closely over the plastic rim of her cage.

Upon seeing Eggsy slinking in behind Harry she let out a squeal and thrust out her pudgy arms, demanding to be picked up. 

Eggsy rushed to hold his little sister while Harry lowered himself onto the sofa, leaning forward to prop himself up with some overstuffed cushions before settling back again. He tilted his head back and reached up to rub a hand across his tired eyes. Stifling a yawn he opened his eyes again - only to find Eggsy standing over him, holding a squirming little girl who was doing everything in her power to reach for Harry.

“Um, sorry, but I think she wants to meet you. She’s not a shy baby.” 

“That’s quite alright, Eggsy, though I’m afraid you’ll have to sit down first. I’m not entirely sure standing up is the best thing for me to do right now.”

Eggsy lowered himself onto the sofa beside Harry, and no sooner had he done so did the little girl in his arms wriggle out of his grasp and into the lap of the nice-smelling man. She fisted her little hands in the front of his shirt and used it to pull herself onto her unsteady legs. Harry immediately raised his hands to her sides to support her weight, but otherwise he remained still. 

Eggsy watched his sister watch Harry for a moment longer before deciding to make the introductions himself. Fondly running his fingers through his sister’s curls, he leaned towards her ear and grinned, “Sophie, this is Harry. He might be a bit scary sometimes, but-” his voice dropped to an over-exaggerated whisper, “he’s actually a big softie, really.” 

Eggsy turned to smirk at Harry, but his words caught in his throat when he saw the corner of Harry’s eyes crinkle. He thought he’d just melt there and then as Harry smiled. Not the usual quirk at the side of his mouth that Eggsy was so accustomed to, but an actual smile. With teeth. And Jesus Christ, were those dimples? Not for the first time, the thought crossed his mind.

_He was so fucked._

He realised he was staring as one of Harry’s eyebrows rose above the other, and he cleared his throat and turned back to Sophie to hide his flush. 

“Ahem- Harry, this is Sophie. She puts things she really shouldn’t in her mouth.” 

Harry, without dropping the heart-stopping smile, nodded his head in the little girl’s direction. “Pleasure to meet you, darling,” he said softly. 

_Darling._

Eggsy felt a little flip in his stomach at hearing the word come from Harry.

His stomach did another little flip for an entirely different reason as he heard his mother come down the stairs.

“Eggsy? That you babe?”

_Shit. Fucking shit._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry must have seen that spark of hope in Eggsy’s eyes die as he lowered them to the floor again, because he suddenly reached forward to place his fingers under Eggsy’s chin and tilted his face up. Harry gulped audibly and ran his tongue over his dry lips, steeling himself for his next words.
> 
> "This isn't me saying no, Eggsy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol most fucking awkward time to be writing this (while staying with my friends very Christian family, in fact most of it was written while they were sitting across the sofa from me) but idgaf. Once again its a long chapter, but it needed to get out and Louis XVI has taken a back seat again in favour of Hartwin.
> 
> Also this marks the fourth time I've seen this movie in as many weeks

“Eggsy? That you babe?”

_Shit. Fucking shit._

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back early.”

Eggsy leapt from the sofa as he heard his mother approach and frantically looked around towards Harry…who was _completely_ ignoring the urgency of the situation in favour of bouncing Sophie on his knee and smiling widely every time she laughed at him.

_And fuck if Eggsy didn’t want to sit and stare at that smile for the rest of his life._

Deciding that it was too late – and probably far too immature – to try and hide Harry from his mother he braced himself for the proverbial impact. 

Michelle Unwin descended the final step wearing probably the simplest outfit she’d ever worn in her life. A soft jumper, jeans that wouldn’t need replaced every three months because they kept getting holes in them, and the first pair of flat shoes she’d bought in eighteen years. She wore no unnecessary, cheap costume jewellery. Her makeup wasn’t smeared from crying and constant reapplication to try and mask the fact that she’d been crying in the first place. No bruises. Her hair cut short in an elegant bob. She looked like she had in the old picture of her he’d seen, from back before his dad died. Eggsy thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

She also looked rather confused. 

Eggsy realised she was staring at the back of the man currently playing with her daughter on the sofa.

She shook her head and smiled as she came to hug him. Eggsy stiffened and found himself barely able to force his arms up to meet her. 

Of course his mum noticed.

“You alright, babe?” He gulped audibly and nodded with a jerk. His eyes darted to Harry, still cooing at the baby.

_What is he doing!_

Michelle seemed to accept his answer and smiled again. Turning her head to the side as she spoke, “And who do we have here? Eggsy didn’t tell me to expect –"

She stopped and stared, disbelievingly, at the man holding her daughter. 

A minute passed, or perhaps an hour. Eggsy couldn’t be sure but it certainly felt like the latter. He was surprised to note that Harry began to shift uncomfortably under his mum’s gaze, though he refused to break eye contact. Instead, he turned Sophie around in his lap so that she sat with her back to his broad chest and let her play with his hands.

He cleared his throat, “Mrs Unwin –"

As Harry began to speak, Michelle seemed to snap out of her stupor, raising both her hands to her shoulders and violently shaking her head. She backed out of the living room, giving Eggsy a look of utter betrayal before turning and opening the front door, closing it quietly behind her as she left.

“Well I certainly didn’t expect her to be so calm.”

Eggsy turned and stared, wide-eyed, at Harry sitting behind him – perfectly composed, petting Sophie’s hair - as if he’d grown a second head.

“Are you kidding? Are you fucking kidding me, Harry? I know me mum, yeah? This is bad.” Without another glance towards the man on the sofa Eggsy pulled on the coat he’d left hanging on the end of the banister, wrenched the door open and chased after his mum.

“Mum! Mum wait!”

He caught up to her as she was rounding the corner at the entrance to their cul-de-sac. Careful not to just pull her arm back to force her to face him – he’d seen Dean do that plenty of times – he kept pace with her, pleading, until she stopped dead in the street. 

Before he could utter a word, she whirled round to face him and jabbed a perfectly manicured finger – and how happy was he that she could afford those now - at the medal hanging on his chest. 

He’d forgotten he’d put it on this morning. Force of habit.

“Do you know what this is, Eggsy?” she cried. 

“Mum, please! People are looking, yeah?” He tried to gently pull her into a nearby alcove. Unsurprisingly she wouldn’t let herself be led.

“Well then bloody well let them!” She pushed the hair from her eyes with both hands and kept them atop her head. “Are you mad, boy? Do you even know who that man is?”

Eggsy resigned himself to have a domestic in the middle of one of the poshest areas of London, and sighed, “Yes, mum. I work with him now.” 

His mum laughed in disbelief and choked back a sob as she pleaded with him, “Do you even hear yourself, Eggsy? Do you know how mad that sounds? That man,” she thrust a finger back in the direction of their home, “killed your dad. They killed your dad, whoever the hell they even are! And you! You’re working for them, with him. He ruined our lives!” 

At some point during her tirade she had taken hold of both her son’s hands in hers. She was looking up at him, searching his eyes, desperate for him to understand what she was saying. She realised as he shook his head and opened his mouth to speak again that she hadn’t gotten through to him.

“Eggsy, babe. Just leave it. I’m gonna walk for a bit.”

Eggsy reached for her, “No, mum, look-"

“I just need a bit, love.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and if she held onto his shoulders a bit too tightly then Eggsy didn’t comment. Nor did he mention the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks.

He watched his mum walk with her arms wrapped around herself until she turned left at the end of the road, _must be heading to the park then_ , and out of sight. After standing for a few minutes more, staring at the spot she had been, he tucked his hands in his pockets and began to dejectedly make his way back to the house.

Upon rounding the corner he discovered that in his haste to catch up to his mum, he’d left the front door open. As he neared the doorway he heard his sister’s squeals of joy and a fond smile crept onto his face. Stepping into the doorway and making sure to close the door behind him with a click, he prepared to hang his jacket over the banister again, but stopped in his tracks when he realised that beneath Sophie’s laughter he could just make out a low chuckle that could only be coming from Harry. 

Eggsy stood in the hallway, leaning on the banister for support, and let the warmth of Harry’s laugh wash over him. Whatever he was doing with Sophie would start with her giggling softly, then Harry would let out an exaggerated gasp and she would cackle with delight. He closed his eyes and thought of the different way he could utterly loose himself to that voice. It was intoxicating, this desire to give himself to Harry completely. With his heartbeat pounding in his ears he concentrated on keeping his breathing even. It was too much. There was no longer any way of denying it, not even to himself.

_I’m fucking in love with him._

Fully aware that he couldn’t spend the rest of the evening hiding from Harry in the hallway, Eggsy took a deep breath and approached the doorway. What he found stopped him in his tracks.

Having allowed Eggsy to chase after his mother – feeling it best not to interfere – Harry once again gave his undivided attention to the pint-size girl in his lap. She seemed to have sensed Eggsy leaving, so before she had the chance to get upset, Harry had turned her back around to face him, taken hold of her waist and tipped her little body back so that her hair was brushing the floor. He then pulled her upright and permitted her a moment to recover before tipping her back again. She was soon squealing with laughter, and he was helpless to stop himself delighting in her joy.

He heard the rustle of a jacket behind him, letting him know that Eggsy was standing in the living room doorway. 

He rearranged his little charge before flattening her curls with his broad hand and turning to smile at Eggsy. The younger man was wearing a most peculiar expression on his face.

“Everything alright, Eggsy?”

Eggsy blinked. Harry thought he saw something shift in his eyes as he straightened himself up and breezed into the room, stopping to pick the child up off Harrys lap and toss her in the air. When he caught her again he kissed her curly head and placed her back in her playpen, instructing JB to sit and stay with her.

He then approached Harry with a grin and held his hand out to help him off the sofa. Harry accepted it without question and allowed himself to be led up the stairs and across the landing to his own bedroom. As he opened the door he was amazed to find everything as he had left it, but without the layer of dust one would have expected. 

Someone had kept it clean, and a quick glance at Eggsy’s eager face informed him that that someone was Eggsy. He smiled warmly at the younger man, “You did this?”

Eggsy flushed. “Well, yeah. I wanted it to be okay for you coming back. If you came back,” the last part was said softly and with a pointed glance to the bandage still obscuring half of Harry’s head.

Harry turned to the bed and unpacked his dressing gown from his travel bags. Slipping the suit jacket from his shoulders, he carefully laid it to the side before beginning to unbutton his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eggsy make a start towards him, but he turned – shirt half unbuttoned - and raised his hands.

“You are very sweet, Eggsy, but this – I think – I can manage.”

If possible Eggsy’s face flushed an even deeper shade of crimson before he nodded sharply and turned to leave the room.

“I didn’t say you had to go. I’ll need someone to help with the laces, bending over makes the blood rush to all the wrong places.”

_Now there was a sentence Eggsy could have done without hearing. Especially in his present state._

Nevertheless he stayed, with his back turned of course, and waited for Harry’s signal that he needed assistance. Thankfully in this position, the older man was unable to see him adjusting his trackies again. A further advantage or this position was that Eggsy was able to glimpse Harry’s reflection in the mirror beside the door, not that he was watching the older man change. 

He was most certainly not enjoying the sight of the muscles in Harry’s pale back and shoulders coil under the skin as he removed his clothing. Nor was he appreciating the delightful contrast of said pale skin and the red, satin dressing gown.

He had just helped Harry unlace his shoes and slip into his ridiculous little Kingsman house-slippers when they heard the front door open and close with a sharp thud. 

Michelle was home.

Harry graciously allowed Eggsy to help him unpack instead of sending him down to face his mother, but the relief was short lived, as barely an hour later Michelle called them to the table.

Dinner was a tense affair. His mum sat at the head of the table, as had been her place since they moved into Harry’s house. Harry didn’t protest, and instead took a seat next to Eggsy, who tried his best to strike up conversation between the three of them. His efforts fell flat and they fell back into silence, only breaking it to ask for condiments. The only one who seemed completely oblivious to the awkwardness of the situation was Sophie, who was valiantly trying to escape from her high-chair, regardless of how many times Harry put her firmly back into it.

The uncomfortable silence continued until dessert, when his mum set her teaspoon down with more force than necessary and, for the first time that night, looked directly at Harry. He met her gaze without flinching.

“Look, since this is your house, Mr?”

“Hart, but you can call me –"

“Oh you don’t want to know what I’d like to call you, mate. But my mum raised a proper lady, so thank you for letting us stay here ‘till ours is done, you’ve been very kind. And I know you’re partly responsible for all of this,” she gestured around the room, at the food on the table and at the clothes she was wearing, “so thanks. But you’re a smart man, Mr. Hart. You can understand that I don’t want to see you. All I ask is, if I’m in a room, you don’t go in it, and you hear me coming, you get out the way. Alright?”

Eggsy’s brow furrowed and he began to protest, but stopped as he felt Harry’s hand come to rest on his knee under the table, and give him a reassuring squeeze. He glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye and saw that his mum hadn’t cause any offense, at least none that was outwardly apparent.

Harry was slightly taken aback by her terms, but nonetheless agreed, understanding that his presence in the house – even if it was his own home – was causing her discomfort.

They sat in silence for the rest of their meal.

Eggsy had trouble sleeping that night.

He had just settled down in Harry’s favourite chair with a glass of warm milk and some terrible, old black and white movie –he was never short of things to watch when he couldn’t sleep because Harry owned a lot of terrible, old black and white movies – when he heard the bottom step of the stair creak.

He glanced across the room just as Harry stopped in the doorway. He was holding his iPad, wearing his red robe and an unreadable expression on his face. 

Silently he made his way across the room to perch at one end of the red chesterfield. His living room was a mismatch of the most comfortable furniture he could find, and as he sat he gestured for Eggsy to join him on the soft leather.

Eggsy set his glass aside, remembering to use a coaster to Harry’s delight, and lifted himself out of the chair. As he sat down beside Harry he realised what he’d been watching, and understood why Harry’s face looked the way it did.

“In my defence, Harry, I had to watch you tear up that church. This ain’t half that bad.” He gestured to the paused footage from Eggsy’s glasses feed, the footage that had been recorded as he infiltrated Valentine’s lair. 

_Merlin must’ve given it to him. Prick._

Harry nodded thoughtfully, then placed the iPad on the sofa between him. He turned his body to face Eggsy and ran his gaze over the younger man, tousled head to bare foot. 

“Merlin was right, I am very proud of you Eggsy.”

_God, how he needed to hear those words._

“Thanks Harry, but there ain’t much to be proud of.”

Harry considered this quietly for a moment before shifting and bringing his right arm up to rest on the high back of the sofa. He cocked his head to the side and propped his chin on his knuckles. “However do you mean?”

“I’ve been doing some thinking, yeah? And so what if I saved the world? The world’s gone to shit now. There’s hardly anyone left to take control of the situation, and like, ninety percent of the most powerful world leaders are dead. Because of me.”

“Yes, well. Ninety percent of the world’s leaders were willing to sign away the lives of billions of innocent people rather than take responsibility for the damage they and their ancestors inadvertently caused to the planet.”

“But Harry. Look as what’s going on now. Crimes up, through the fucking roof even, there’s militias and drug cartels running half the world, and the other half ain’t much better off. That’s my fault.”

Harry sighed and shifted closer to Eggsy on the sofa.

“Eggsy. What was it you said to Roxy? Ah yes, I remember,” he shuffled forward again, leaning towards Eggsy as he whispered, _“Stop fucking about.”_

Eggsy blinked.

_Fuck, I’ll never get used to him swearing. But Christ if it ain’t hot when he does._

“Militias and drug cartels have been running half the world since the words were invented, there isn’t anything new there. The point is, you stopped Valentine.”

“Not quick enough though. How many people d’ye reckon died ‘cause I was faffin’ about, talkin’ to that bird?”

Harry found it amusing that despite Eggsy’s best efforts, his accent became more pronounced when he was frustrated. 

_He’s really taken the whole ‘superior to one’s former self’ concept to heart._

“Millions probably.”

Surprised by Harry’s bluntness – though really, should he have been? – Eggsy lapsed into silence again. He was quiet for a few minutes, staring straight ahead yet still aware of Harry’s eyes on him, patiently awaiting his response. 

“I’m a horrible fucking person.”

“When facing certain death, your last thought was of your mother and sister, Eggsy. The last thing you ever wanted to do was make sure your family was safe. That makes you a good person.”

“And you,” Eggsy muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

Eggsy sighed and decided to tell Harry the truth, “I didn’t say it out loud because I suddenly remembered those chip things. But I was going to tell Roxy to make sure they went back for you. I didn’t want to think about you lying on that cold tarmac carpark.”

He knew he couldn’t turn to face Harry again, because if he did he’d see that damned little smile of his and he wasn’t sure his fragile nerves could handle that presently.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and reluctantly turned his body towards Harry, only to find the older man much closer than he thought he’d be. Harry was staring intently at Eggsy, with the most sincere expression he’d ever seen gracing the man’s face.

“If it’s any conciliation, my last thought before Valentine shot me wasn’t of my family. It was an overwhelming sense of fear, fear that you might be watching the feed from my glasses. I didn’t want you to have to see that.”

Eggsy was stunned into silence. It was all he could do to watch the soft light from the table lamp cast a warm glow over Harry’s face. It made him seem younger, somehow; made his eyes seem brighter, and his smile seem kinder.

Once again, before his brain could catch up with what his body was planning, Eggsy had lifted his hand to caress Harry’s jawline and closed what little space was left between them. He touched his lips softly to Harry’s in a chaste kiss, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do.

It was only as he was pulling back – and he took in the startled, wide-eyed expression on Harry’s face – that he realised what he’d just done. His blood ran cold. 

_Bollocks._

“Fuck. Shit. Harry, I’m sorry I-“ he cut himself off and choked back the hot tears that were threatening to spill over, retreating in a panic towards the door. 

Harry Hart was not often rendered speechless, but every coherent thought fled his mind as soon as he felt the gentle press of Eggsy’s lips against his own. It happened so suddenly that he barely had time to blink before Eggsy was pulling back with a blinding smile.

He watched, unable to move and powerless to stop the smile fading from Eggsy’s face as it drained of colour. He started retreating backwards towards the hallway, almost tripping over Sophie’s toys in his haste. As he neared the doorway he quickly spun around and prepared to bolt.

He stilled at Harry’s sudden command, “Eggsy, stop.”

Unable to force himself to turn around and face Harry, Eggsy fixed his eyes on the floor, trying to hold back his tears. He stood with his fists clenched at his sides, willing himself not to make a sound. He couldn’t stop the shaky breath he let out as a quiet sob wracked his body.

The tearful hitch in Eggsy’s breath was what finally forced Harry from the sofa. He crossed the room in four powerful strides and came to stand directly behind Eggsy, making no move to touch him.

“Eggsy? Eggsy, please, look at me.” 

Little by little, Eggsy turned around, not once lifting his gaze from the floor. His quick breaths and choked sobs were the only sounds in the room. Harry’s heart was breaking as he took in the tear-stained cheeks and furrowed brow.

“Eggsy,” he took a shaky breath, forcing himself to look at the younger man’s distraught face. He began again, “Eggsy, I need-” he stopped again, calming himself with another breath. Eggsy finally looked at him with hopeful eyes.

_Tell me. Tell me what you need. Whatever you fucking need, Harry._

“I need some time, to think, Eggsy.”

_Bugger it._

Harry must have seen that spark of hope in Eggsy’s eyes die as he lowered them to the floor again, because he suddenly reached forward to place his fingers under Eggsy’s chin and tilted his face up. Harry gulped audibly and ran his tongue over his dry lips, steeling himself for his next words.

“This isn’t me saying no, Eggsy,” he breathed as he pressed his thumb to Eggsy’s lower lip and gently ran it along to the corner of his mouth. His breath hitched as Eggsy’s tongue unconsciously darted out to wet his lips and caught the tip of Harry’s thumb. He drew his hand back, running his forefinger along Eggsy’s jaw as he did so. 

It took every ounce of strength he had to put some distance between them, and even more to stop himself reaching for the younger man again.

Without another word, Harry – for lack of a better word – fled the room. Eggsy listened to his footsteps as he ascended the stairs and crossed the landing. He heard a door click shut, and the quiet squeak of bed springs, indicating that Harry must have sat down.

Eggsy walked as if in a trance, up the stairs and into his own room. He tried not to look at Harry’s door. It wasn’t until he fell into his own bed that he realised he was shamefully hard.

Biting his lip to keep himself from crying out, Eggsy took himself in hand and began pumping furiously. He tried to make it as quick as possible, and when he came with a stuttered gasp of Harry’s name he let fresh tears spill onto his cheeks.

He never once considered that Harry was doing exactly the same in the room opposite his.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m twenty-seven years older than him, Merlin. That’s over twice his age. He was six years old when we met. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
> 
> Merlin considered this for a moment before leering. “Like a cradle-robbing paedophile I’d imagine.”
> 
> “Thank you, Merlin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mkay so sort of filler but sort of not because Harry seriously needs to process his feelings.

Eggsy was avoiding him, Harry surmised.

It had been exactly one week since their awkward confrontation in his living room, and Harry only knew that Eggsy was still living in the same house because he heard him say goodbye to his mother and sister before he left each morning. 

Where he went Harry didn’t know, he never said, and the option of asking Michelle was simply out of the question. He never ventured upstairs to say goodbye to Harry either. 

_Harry would be lying to himself if he said that didn’t hurt._

He never saw Eggsy eating, then again, he felt it would be safer for him to take his meals in his room. He was, after all, doing his very best to make Michelle as comfortable as possible, and the dear woman deserved to dine with her little family in peace. She was also incredibly accommodating, and - once she had realised that he was isolating himself for her benefit - she began to bring his meals to his door, to spare him the journey downstairs that often left him breathless and dizzy.

Harry would have given anything for her to send Eggsy up one night instead.

But Harry was first and foremost a gentleman, and a gentlemen knows how to be patient. The irony of him being the one to ask for space when he clearly craved the opposite was not lost on him, but he had assumed that Eggsy wouldn’t take it quite as literally as he evidently had. He had assumed that the younger man would still enjoy his company. He resigned himself to waiting for Eggsy to feel comfortable enough to approach him again.

It didn’t stop him missing Eggsy desperately. Without his company, Harry was left to spend his days alone. He couldn’t talk to Michelle, and he couldn’t venture downstairs to spend time with Sophie without running into Michelle, and he had made a promise in that respect. JB was left trying to divide his time as faithful bodyguard and faithful lapdog, but more often than not he spent his afternoons in front of Sophie’s playpen as instructed by Eggsy, instead of upstairs with Harry. 

Harry was lonely.

He awoke one morning, preparing to make the trip downstairs to gather breakfast before the rest of the house left their beds, when he noticed that all was not as quiet as it should have been. He slowly cracked open one eye and glanced at the clock by his bedside. _10:50._

_Shit. I’m late._

As he rolled to the side of the bed where he kept his slippers he noticed a small slip of paper propped up against his glass of water. Unfolding it, he recognised Eggsy’s handwriting, and warmed at the thought of the young man trying to leave it there without waking him.

 _Harry_ , it began, _sorry about leaving you in the rough like this but I got a call from Merlin, Ector and I are being sent to Belarus. I’ll be back in a few days. Mum’s just popped to the shops and JB’s watching Sophie, he’ll come get you if anything’s wrong. Eggsy._

 _Ector_ , thought Harry; _now that is strange._

As far as he was aware Eggsy had never come into contact with the much older knight, so it seemed unusual that Merlin would post the two together. And as for Belarus, he thought Merlin had told him the situation was much calmer there than it had been since V-day.

The next thing he noticed was the noise. A high-pitched wail coming from downstairs that could only have been Sophie. He realised that this was the sound that had woken him up, and where Eggsy would usually have seen to her immediately, she was still crying. He strained to hear anyone else moving around the house, but the only sound was coming from the distressed little girl in the living room. He cautiously rose from the bed, mindful of his recent bouts of dizziness, and wrapped himself in his robe. Not bothering with the slippers he opened his bedroom door, and that was when he noticed that beneath Sophie’s crying he could just about distinguish JB’s distressed barking coming from somewhere outside.

Harry stiffened and instinctively assumed his professional role. Retrieving his pistol from the bedside cabinet, he slipped it into his pocket and approached the top of the stairs. He still couldn’t hear anyone else moving around. 

_Not a robbery, then._

He began carefully making his way down the stairs, glancing over to the kitchen and in the direction of JB’s barking. He was relieved to note that the half stable door that led into his tiny back courtyard was open at the top, and JB was simply struggling to get the bottom to open. It became apparent that the laundry basket had fallen on its end between the table and the corner of the counter, stopping the door from opening fully. JB’s head had ended up wedged in between the door and its frame.

_Daft animal._

Fortunately for JB, the man with the broad hands, blunt nails and pleasing smell was making his way down the stairs to let him back into the kitchen. Fortunately for Eggsy, Michelle had had carried the overflowing laundry basket – her son managed to go through more clean clothes than even his sister – downstairs to the kitchen, intending on putting a wash on, only to discover that she had run out of detergent. In her frustration, she had accidentally placed the basket right in front of the door she had just let JB out of, before leaving the house as Eggsy was hurriedly scrawling a note to leave Harry. Unfortunately for Harry and his bare feet, Michelle had missed a sock.

He’d been so concentrated on trying to figure out why JB was wedged in his kitchen door that he’d missed the stray sock lying on one of the middle steps. He was caught completely unawares, and – not having enough time to grab hold of anything to steady himself – he slipped, falling headfirst into the wall at the curve of the stairs, and landing in a heap at the bottom. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

Sophie began to scream.

Michelle Unwin was grateful for the little things in life. Like the little blue card currently stashed in her purse – the one she knew only Eggsy was supposed to have, that gave her access to ‘the account’ – which made sure that she would never again have to choose between feeding herself and feeding her children. Despite her initial reservations she felt safer knowing now where the money was coming from. She still wasn't quite ready to accept her son's particular set of talents, but she understood that he was his own man. If he wanted to follow his father's footsteps she'd do everything she could to support him. She was also incredibly relieved that Eggsy had finally fallen in with a good - albeit, highly dangerous- crowd. 

She was making her way along the cobbled street towards their home when he heard her daughter wailing. She had almost quickened her pace to a run by the time she reached the door, but as she tried to open it far enough to squeeze herself in, she was met with resistance. Panic took over. She dropped her groceries at the doorway and forced her way through the gap, almost tripping over the body she found lying at the bottom of the stairs.

Initially she barely looked at the figure, instead throwing herself into the living room to gather her screaming daughter into her arms. The child’s face was flushed an angry shade of crimson and her crying became hoarse and Michelle rocked her back and forth. She tried to put as much distance between herself and the figure in the hall as she fumbled for her phone. If she could reach Eggsy he’d have someone sent round. They could hide somewhere. The linen cupboard, maybe.

It was only then that she noticed her son’s dog barking at the door. Keeping her eyes in the direction of the hall – the actual body was obscured by an end table – she backed towards the door and found the overturned laundry basket blocking the dog’s way. Kicking it to the side, she pulled the door open and watched as he shot past her and towards the hallway.

He wasn’t barking anymore.

Cautiously she moved forwards to peer over the kitchen table. JB was sniffing around the man in the hall, licking his hands and whimpering. As she got closer, Michelle gasped, recognising the red robe that the man was wearing. Placing her daughter on a chair she hurried towards Harry’s unconscious body and pushed the distressed pug out of the way, feeling her way along his collar and checking for a pulse. 

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in as he felt a flutter against her fingers. 

Understanding that she would have to deal with the unconscious man herself, she returned her daughter to her playpen and glanced around the living room, trying to determine a suitable place to put Harry.

Settling for a clear spot against the chesterfield, she moved back into the hall and crouched down next to the older man. The little pug was once again doing his best to bury his face in Harry’s neck.

“Alright, settle down now,” she pushed the dog gently away again, “I’ll take care of this.” Deciding that the best way to move him was to drag him along the floor, Michelle gently manoeuvred him so that he was sitting upright. It was then that she found what she had feared would be the case; there was blood seeping through the bandages on his head.

_Must’ve hit his head pretty damn hard._

She glanced up at the stairs and furrowed her brow, remembering the pug stuck outside and her screaming daughter. 

Michelle sighed and tried to remember Eggsy telling her where the fresh bandages were kept, before hooking her arms under his and slowly shuffling along the carpeted floor until she had reached the sofa. She placed a cushion behind his back and made sure he was safely propped up before going on a bandage hunt.

Harry sluggishly became aware of sharp stabbing pain in the left side of his head. He tried opening his eyes, but was met with a blinding light that only served to increase the pain he was in. He flinched back as he felt something cold touch the side of his face. 

A hand was placed on the other side to keep him still. He tried opening his eyes again, grateful to see that someone’s head was blocking most of the light. As he tried to focus he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

“Mr Hart? Mr Hart, can you hear me?”

Harry, recognising that the voice was indeed Eggsy’s mother, tried to nod his head but flinched at the sudden onslaught of pain.

“No, don’t move. You need to keep your head still for me, yeah?”

Harry was happy to obey if it stopped his head feeling like he was being kicked by a mule. 

Michelle gently peeled away the bandages and was relieved to find that the damage caused by his fall was only superficial. She told him as much, “Just a bump. You haven’t reopened any of your deeper stitches, but the impact caused some of the surface level stitches to give way, not enough to be concerned about, mind.”

She gently cleaned and redressed the wound, all the while trying not to look at Harry’s face. He hissed as she applied some sort of antiseptic ointment and wrapped his head in cloth again, and caught her hand as she tried to pull back.

“Forgive me, but how do you know how to properly redress a suture?”

Michelle snorted, “I was training to be a nurse when Eggsy’s dad died. Had to give it up,” she quickly changed the subject, “What were you doing on the floor?” 

Harry experimentally tipped his head to the side and discovered that it was a terrible idea, flinching further back into the sofa. “I woke up and heard the little one crying and JB barking. I thought something was wrong and came down to investigate. Silly creature had gotten himself stuck in the door, but I couldn’t tell why she was crying. I was going to let JB back in when I slipped on something. I hit my head, I take it?”

Realising that he’d hurt himself while trying to protect her daughter softened Michelle’s heart to the man in front of her.

“That’s how I found you, gave me a right scare. Sophie was crying because she’d thrown her dummy out the crib.”

Harry blinked twice. “I reopened my stitches for a misplaced pacifier?” he asked incredulously.

Michelle nodded with a slight smile and finished packing up the first aid kit. She then regarded the man in front of her as he tried to blink away the pain he was obviously in.

“You saved Eggsy.”

He turned his head sharply to look at her, confusion evident on his face. “In the pub,” she began again, “when those guys would’ve killed him. And then again, from Dean, when he had that knife at his throat.”

Harry nodded carefully, keeping his eyes on hers. “I did.”

“And you stopped him doing something stupid to Dean outside the Prince, with that funny little remote-controlled taxi of yours.”

“He told you about that?” Harry laughed softly.

“Yeah. He’s been telling me everything. ‘Bout what he does, ‘bout who he is. I know he ain’t supposed to, but he figured I’d be okay, since I’ve got no one to tell. Christ, he hasn’t stopped talking about you for days.”

_Bugger if that didn’t make him feel better._

“Mrs Unwin-"

“Michelle. If we’re gonna have the conversation I think we are, then you’d best call me Michelle.”

Harry scanned her face. “Alright.”

She rolled herself back to sit with her feet tucked beneath her, clearing her throat and nervously fiddling with her hands in her lap. She was silent, until Harry reached over – slowly, so as not to startle her – and carefully places his hand on hers. At his gentle touch, she took a deep breath to steady herself and began to speak.

“It’s so hard, looking at you. Every time I do, I see you in that room, telling me he’s dead. Telling me you can’t tell me, and saying there’s nothing else you can do. Can you tell me now? I know all about your little spy ring, but it’s been eighteen years, and I want to know what happened to my husband.”

“We were in Iran, extracting some important information. I was in charge of the operation. You must understand that no one else can do what we do,” she gave a tearful nod. “We managed to isolate our target, but then he did something I didn’t expect. I was unprepared. He – ahem -” he paused, unsure if he was willing to tell her that her husband had been blown up. He felt her grip on his hand tighten.

“Just tell me, please,” she pleaded. 

“He pulled out a grenade,” Harry began, willing himself to continue despite Michelle’s pained gasp. They both needed him to. “I didn’t see it, until he’d removed the pin. Eggsy’s father threw me out of the way and jumped on top of the target, to shield the rest of us from the blast.”

“It was quick then?”

Harry paused, startled. “I’m sorry?”

“All these years I’ve hated you. I thought you’d left him somewhere to die. Thought you thought he weren’t worth going back for, ‘cause of where he came from. I thought he’d died in pain, thinking about leaving me and Eggsy behind.”

“Mrs- Michelle. He died very quickly, he wouldn’t have had time to think about anything.”

“So he didn’t suffer?”

Harry shook his head softly. “No.”

Michelle nodded and raised a hand to wipe at her damp eyes. “Is it weird that that makes me feel better?” Harry gave her a reassuring smile and another shake of his head, allowing her the time to process her feelings.

Eventually he broke the silence. “Your husband, he was one of the best I’d ever seen. I was convinced I’d never find another like him, until I met Eggsy course.”

At this she smiled, because what mother doesn’t love being told their child is a success. But there was something about the way he smiled around Eggsy’s name that gave her pause. She recalled the same smile on Eggsy’s lips as he talked about Harry. He’d been talking about Harry a lot recently, worrying about his recovery and trying to get his mum to interact with him. Her lips quirked up at the corners.

_So that’s what that is._

She felt at peace in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was as if everything in her life had finally fallen into place. Realising her anger had been misplaced for all those years - and that she did not, in fact, hate the man in front of her - Michelle made up her mind to do what any mother would. She decided to try and help.

“You’ve given me all of this, Mr Hart, Harry. Will you let me give you some advice?”

Harry gave her a genuine smile from across the floor, “I would welcome it, Michelle.”

“Tell him you’re in love with him.” She whispered with the sort of secret grin that seemed to be completely unique to a mother.

_Have a go at that if you think you’re hard enough, posh boy._

Having settled her mind that there was something more in the older man’s interest in Eggsy – and his in Harry - she reached out on impulse and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before lifting herself off the floor and going back for the fallen groceries.

Harry was shocked into silence, barely registering Michelle’s movements behind him as she unpacked the food and placed it in all the wrong cupboards. He stayed on the floor until after she had gone up stairs, having made sure he wasn’t in any pain. When he finally began to lose feeling in his legs he reached behind himself and placed both hands on the sofa, hoisting his body off the floor and sinking back into the soft leather. 

Still absorbed in gauging how to react to Michelle’s advice, Harry didn’t notice Merlin approaching until he was standing in his peripheral vision. 

“Jesus Christ, Merlin!” Harry cried.

Merlin’s self-satisfied smirk was decidedly the most irritating aspect of his friend’s personality. “You’re getting slow Harry; I’ve never been able to get this close before.” Oh, how Harry desperately wanted to punch that smug face.

Pressing a hand to his chest to calm his pounding heart Harry huffed, “Are you trying to kill me?”

Merlin gave a nonchalant shrug, “If I were trying to kill you, Harry, I wouldn’t have worked my arse off trying to save your life.”

“Yes, well. Thank you for that.”

Merlin shifted his weight to his left foot – something Harry had noticed him doing for a while now but had so far failed refrained from commenting on – and asked with concern, “How are you feeling today?”

Harry sighed, “Truthfully? Dazed. I fell this morning.”

Merlin was at his side in the blink of an eye, fussing over him like a mother hen and checking his head for further damage. “Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself? How did you fall? Did you hit your head?” It was then that Merlin noticed the bandages weren’t any he’d dressed the wound in.

The questions were fired so rapidly at him that harry only caught a few. “Yes, I’m alright. I woke up and heard the baby crying but when I went to check I slipped on the stairs and fell. I don’t remember hitting anything or blacking out but when I came round, Michelle Unwin was holding a cold cloth to my head and changing the dressing. She said I’d torn some surface stitches. Did you know she was a nurse in training?”

As he gave his answer Merlin had been carefully turning his head back and forth, assessing his injuries. Harry tried not to roll his eyes at his friend’s worrying.

“No I didn’t,” admitted merlin indulgently, “Has there been much dizziness?”

_There had been, far more than he was willing to admit to Eggsy or Merlin._

Unfortunately for him Merlin was quite adept at reading Harry’s facial expressions, and gave him a tolerant look before sighing, “You might want to get it checked Harry, it could be serious. I could bring you back to HQ and-"

“No.” Harry stated firmly, “Bugger it all, no. I’ve just gotten back into my own home and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be forced out of it again. I much prefer my own duvet to your over-bleached sheets.”

Merlin’s eyebrow quirked. “Well someone’s got their knickers in a twist.” He regarded Harry carefully before his eyes widened. “Something happened didn’t it? Something that could have been good, but of course you - being you -decided not to avail of the opportunity.”

“He isn’t a fucking opportunity, Merlin,” Harry spat.

_Bingo._

Merlin gave a long-suffering sigh, “What have you done, Harry.”

“Nothing, I’ve done nothing.”

A nod. “And that would be the problem I take it.”

Harry’s head fell back against the leather and he rubbed his hand over his tired eyes. Carefully rolling his head to the side he fixed his eyes on his the other man. “How old is he, Merlin?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Correct. And how old am I?”

“I don’t actually know the answer to that, seeing as you won’t let me celebrate your birthday anymore and I don’t go into personal files without a good reason. But you’re only, what, fifty?”

“I’m fifty-one,” Harry muttered.

Merlin huffed and sat back before crossing his arms. “God, a whole year. Terrifying.”

“I’m twenty-seven years older than him, Merlin. That’s over twice his age. He was six years old when we met. Do you know how that makes me feel?”

Merlin considered this for a moment before leering. “Like a cradle-robbing paedophile I’d imagine.”

“Thank you, Merlin.”

The smirk fell as Merlin suddenly became serious, “He isn’t six years old anymore, Harry.”

“No, but it still doesn’t change the fact that when I first introduced myself to him he couldn’t pronounce his own name properly. ‘Eggthy,’ he said. Every time I look at him I can’t seem to shake the image of that frightened little boy staring up at me.” Harry sighed again and shifted the weight of his head, relieving the strain on his neck.

“Well, forgive me, but that is a bit creepy.”

Harry furrowed his brow and glowered at Merlin. “Not like that, you utter prick.”

Seeing how genuinely distressed his dear friend was, Merlin decided he was prepared to indulge him. “Like what then?”

“Like, I’ve ruined him. I see that little boy, with so much ahead of him, and then I look at Eggsy, and can’t help but feel responsible for where he’s ended up.” Harry let his eyes fall closed.

“What? In a nice, comfortable house with his mother and sister safe, a job he’s bloody brilliant at, surrounded by people who love him and who are willing to give their lives to protect him?”

“No. In a volatile profession where he could lose his life at the drop of a hat. Literally, you remember those cap-grenades in Beijing?”

“Oh, don’t get me started on Beijing. Crafty Bastards.”

Harry didn’t respond, he was distracted by fiddling with a loose thread hanging from his dressing gown sleeve. Merlin decided to try and reassure him.

“He gave his consent, Harry. That’s what’s important.”

“Did I really give him much of a choice, cornering him in the dressing room? Besides, ‘do I look like I have anything to lose?’ doesn’t exactly qualify as express consent, does it?”

Merlin didn’t really have an answer for that, so they slipped back into a comfortable silence. He took the time to glance around the room - taking note of the toys scattered on the floor, the terribly garish soft furnishings that couldn’t possibly have been Harry’s responsibility and the scrawled mess of crayon stick people on brightly coloured paper who, upon closer inspection, were not entirely dissimilar to Harry, Eggsy, Michelle and a blob that he supposed was Sophie – and decided it had been far too long since his friend had had a family.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to delay the transfer? I can give you a few more days to rest up.”

“No, it’s quite alright. Like you said last week; I’ll not be doing anything strenuous for the first few weeks, I’ll just be on desk duty. I’m sitting around here all day anyway, so I might as well be doing something useful for a change. I need to find a way to occupy myself.”

Merlin nodded and clasped his friend on the shoulder, a sign that he was getting ready to leave. Harry waved him off, not bothering to see him to the door. Before Merlin turned to leave he glanced back in Harry’s direction and said, “It would make your life a lot easier if you would just tell him.”

“I have to wait and let him make that decision,” Harry countered.

 _Now_ , he thought as Merlin clicked the door shut behind him and took off whistling down the pathway, _if only he could convince himself of that._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol what am I doing with my life I am a trashbag
> 
> For the person who asked, my tumblr is teamfreeswag, but expect a lot of shit on there that isn't just kingsman shipper trash. 
> 
> ps what was once a fleeting acknowledgement that Colin Firth was quiet attractive is a slippery slope that there is no coming back from i am dead dont bother sending help
> 
> pps all the fluff was killing me so i went ahead and wrote some smut and cant decide wether to use it here or upload it as a oneshot

Eggsy woke to the sound of someone cooking down below. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted up the stairs and enticingly through his open door, and he decided that breakfast was more important than a lie in.

Pulling on a hoodie he really should have stuffed in the laundry basket days ago, Eggsy tiptoed his way downstairs to the kitchen, preparing to greet his mum with a hug from behind and kiss to the cheek to distract her while he snagged some bacon from the pan. 

He was halfway across the kitchen, carefully picking his way over JB’s upended food dish, when he noticed that the figure at the stove was most certainly not his mother.

_Shit, that could have been weird,_ came the part of his mind already awake. _Or maybe it would have been just the ticket to get them back to normal,_ said the traitorous part of him that was, admittedly, still half asleep.

Hearing someone come to a stop behind him, Harry glanced over his shoulder to find Eggsy standing there, hair mussed by sleep and brows drawn together in an adorable crinkle. He beamed at the younger man and pointed to a place already laid out at the dining table.

“Breakfast will be ready in a minute.”

Eggsy walked to the table, shooting confused looks at Harry’s back as he sat down. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with a reason for Harry being up so early and cooking breakfast instead of his mum.

“How do you like your eggs?” Harry called to him from the kitchen.

“Runny,” he answered, just as he realised what day it was. Harry’s first day back. He was going to assume his rightful role as Arthur. Personally, Eggsy was still worried about him, but his bandages were gone and the stitches had been taken out days ago. All that was left was a thin scar starting high on the left side of his forehead and disappearing into his hairline. Harry, in an unusual fit of self-consciousness, had taken to allowing his fringe to curl over his forehead instead of slicking it back, just to hide the scar. 

Eggsy wasn’t going to deny that he quite liked the look of Harry’s longer hair sweeping over his face - it made it more difficult for the man to hide the fact that there was a slight curl to the ends. 

As Harry placed the eggs and bacon in front of him and went to fetch some toast, Eggsy remembered his promise to ride to the shop in the taxi with him.

_Shit._

He knew he wasn’t being fair to the older man - who seemed to have very graciously forgotten all about the incident in the living room – but Eggsy was finding it very difficult to be around his mentor and not think about how warm and soft his lips felt against Eggsy’s, how hungry his eyes were as he dragged his thumb along Eggsy’s lower lip, how that thumb tasted on his tongue. 

Maybe he imagined that last part. 

_“This isn’t me saying no, Eggsy.”_ Well, he hadn’t said anything else on the matter, and Eggsy was beginning to think that he’d dreamt Harry’s hungry gaze and the soft fingers tracing his jaw. If he had then he was royally screwed. Determined not to embarrass himself further, he hadn’t brought it up again, and had shamefully taken to hiding from Harry, instead waiting for the older man to approach him.

_He couldn’t be sure if he was imagining the dejected look in Harry’s eyes each time he cut their conversations short or not. Probably was._

He was brought back from his thoughts by Harry slipping a piece of overdone toast onto his plate.

_Just the way I like it._

Harry, on the other hand, liked his bread barely toasted at all. To Eggsy it look exactly the same popping up as it had going into the toaster. It was gross, really.

He watched Harry try and dissolve as much sugar as was physically possible into his tea before he spoke, following the movements of the spoon with his eyes. “You going in today, yeah?”

Harry looked up at him from over the edge of his morning paper, “Yes. Merlin has graciously consented to surrender the position of Arthur to me.”

Eggsy snorted as he tore off a piece of bacon with his fingers and dipped it in his egg. “Probably just wants to get rid of all the paperwork, the lazy bugger.”

Harry smiled. “Yes, well. Merlin has never been particularly fond of any form of data that can’t be stored on a computer, and unfortunately for him the rules require us to keep a hard copy of every form, slip and report we have. He hates filing paper.” 

They finished their breakfast in silence, with Eggsy glancing nervously up at the clock every thirty seconds, counting down the time he had before he would be confined in a taxi with the man on his right for an hour. He was so preoccupied with worrying about avoiding the awkward silence to come that he didn’t notice Harry’s eyes following the path of his hands from the plate to his mouth.

Harry didn’t scold him for not using his knife and fork, not if it meant he could watch his pink tongue dart out to lick the grease and egg from his fingertips.

_He spent far too much time watching that mouth._

Quickly darting his eyes back down to scan his paper as Eggsy moved to collect their plates, he noticed something on the third page that alarmed him. Folding the paper so that the article was facing outwards he turned it in his hands and called Eggsy over.

“Eggsy, what’s this?”

Eggsy deposited the dishes in the sink and turned to see Harry holding up a newspaper article titled: Assassination of the President of the Republic of Belarus foiled by mysterious men in suits.

_Oh fuck._

Sheepishly Eggsy rubbed the back of his neck. “Merlin was hoping you wouldn’t see that.”

Harry’s eyebrow quirked, “And why not?”

Taking a seat beside Harry again, Eggsy plucked the paper from his hands and smoothed it out on the table in front of him. “What with everything in the world gone to shit, it’s getting harder and harder to hide ourselves from the press. They’re swarming everywhere. The whole world’s on red alert. Staying under the radar isn’t as easy as it used to be.”

Harry gave a careful nod, reminding himself that he needed to bring this up with Merlin later. Something suddenly came back to him, “Was this when you were with Ector?”

Eggsy shrugged, “Yeah. He was alright, good agent. Wasn’t like you though. Why?”

Harry tried not to show how much the words _‘wasn’t like you’_ affected him, “I can’t imagine why Merlin would post you with someone you’d never met. We Kingsman usually have our designated colleagues, you pair with them on dangerous missions and can go your whole career without meeting other knights in the flesh. I still haven’t met Agravaine or Lionel in person.” 

Eggsy’s brow furrowed, “So why’d he send me on a mission with a senior knight when my designated colleague is Roxy – sorry, Lancelot?”

Harry shook his head, but filed the information in his mental box labelled ‘corner Merlin later when there’s no one around.’ 

Glancing at the clock he declared that they’d best be getting ready if they didn’t want to be late. To his utter amazement Eggsy asked if he needed any help getting dressed, and Harry tried to rationalise being selfish enough to ask the younger man to assist him with his shoes.

Eggsy had just finished adjusting his tie, when Harry swanned into his room and gracefully dropped himself onto the bed as if he belonged there. He was holding a pair of chocolate-coloured oxfords in his hands.

_Strange_ , thought Eggsy, as be bent down to tie the laces, _I don’t think I’ve ever seen Harry wearing brown shoes_. He tried not to think about how well the highly polished leather matched the colour of Harry’s eyes beautifully.

While Eggsy darted up the stairs to say goodbye to his mother before he left, Harry approached Sophie’s little crib that had been erected in what was once a spare office, but had since been taken annexed by overstuffed animals and crayon drawings. Harry quietly reached into the crib and stroked the side of the little girls sleeping face. Kissing the tips of his fingers he lovingly pressed them to her cheek, the gentle smile still on his lips as he pulled back and turned to leave the room - only to come face to face with Eggsy, who was trying very hard not to coo at the sight of Harry Hart losing his shit over a baby. 

Harry cleared his throat and bashfully adjusted his suit jacket before striding from the room and, rather unwisely given his previous luck with steps, descended the stairs two at a time. Thankfully he didn’t slip. He turned and called up to Eggsy that he’d be waiting for him in the taxi. 

Eggsy stood next to his sisters crib, fingers brushing over the spot Harry’s had been only a few moments before. “I’ll be home for dinner, baby girl. Don’t you worry.” He mirrored Harry’s actions by kissing his fingers and then placing them on the same spot Harry had. Smiling sadly to himself he whispered, “Your big brother’s got it bad, baby girl.”

He joined Harry in the taxi after locking up and together they began the hour long taxi ride in rush hour traffic. Really it would have made more sense to walk, a thought that occurred to Harry as he was considering just how close Eggsy’s legs were to his.

_He looks utterly divine in that suit._

Little did he know that Eggsy was considering exactly the same thing, except that his thoughts were concentrated on how gorgeous Harry looked with his hair falling the way it did. 

When they arrived at the shop Eggsy sprang from the taxi and barely restrained his urge to run to the shuttle and hide there until Roxy found him. Denying himself the chance to flee, he patiently waited for Harry to gather his things and together they made their way to Arthur’s office. Once outside the doors Eggsy noticed that Harry’s hand hesitated just above the handle.

He glanced to the side and took note of Harry’s drawn brows and down-turned lips. Taking a deep breath he reached for the handle before Harry could and pushed the door open for him, sweeping his arm out with a flourish and a devilish grin. “Welcome to your office, Sir.”

Harry would be eternally grateful to Eggsy for giving him the courage to enter the room. He slowly made his way around to the head of the table, only hesitating for a fraction of a second before lowering himself into the chair.

Eggsy smiled as he decided Harry looked right, sitting in it. He belonged there.

Clearing his throat he addressed the older man, “Is there anything else you need, Arthur.”

Harry didn’t bother to try and hide his smile, “No, thank you, Galahad. Though I do believe that Merlin requires your presence at HQ.”

Eggsy flashed him a winning smile and left the room, heaving a sigh as the closed the doors behind him. He stared at the wood for a moment longer before shaking himself from his stupor and heading for the shuttle.

_He really needed to talk to Roxy._

Arthur was left alone until he heard Merlin tapping on his door around noon, patiently waiting for permission to enter. Merlin smirked as he heard Harry’s frustrated huff, “Yes, yes. Come in.”

He pushed open the heavy, mahogany doors to find Harry at the head of the table, surrounded by stacks of neatly organised paper and folders. Impressed that the man had managed to make it look so neat whilst he had felt as if he was being drowned by paper, Merlin clicked the door shut behind him and approached his new superior.

“Sir. If I could have a word?”

Harry sighed and set the pen he had been holding off to the side. “You can drop the Sir, Merlin, it’s just us here after all.” He took his glasses off and, folding them shut, set them atop the mountain of paperwork to his right. Merlin gave a sympathetic wince and, having assumed permission was given, took the seat next to Harry.

“There’s more of it than you’d think, huh?” He gestured to the stacks of paper threatening to topple over.

Harry turned in the direction he was pointing and smiled triumphantly, “Actually, those are done. They just need to be filed.” He motioned to the considerably smaller stack to his left, “These are the only ones left.”

He almost laughed at the other man’s stunned expression. “How? You’ve only been here for three hours at best.”

Harry smirked and rose from his chair to approach the sideboard, where a hot pot of tea and two cups were waiting. Turning to look at Merlin he gestured to the cups and brought them both back to the table. “Because, Merlin, unlike you I have a competent filing system,” he finished with a sly wink and a demure sip of his tea. 

_Barely coloured water polluted with sugar no doubt._

Merlin continued to stir his tea until he was satisfied with the strength, before adding the tiniest dash of milk and leaning back in his chair, taking a cautious taste to test the temperature. Ignoring Harry’s disgusted glance at the cup in his hand, he set it on its coaster before reaching out and claiming the two rich tea biscuits on the plate in front of him, not prepared to fight Harry for the chocolate digestives. 

The two men sat in companionable silence before Merlin remembered that he hadn’t, in fact, just come for a cup of tea. He placed his cup on its coaster and turned to look at Harry, who seemed to be doing his best to glower away the remaining paperwork. “So how are you two getting on?”

Harry was startled out of his staring contest with the tax returns. “Fine. We’re fine. Its fine. It’s really-”

“Fine?”

He gave a heavy sigh and rubbed his left eye. “It’s been two weeks since it happened and he’s only just started speaking to me again, and that’s only if I speak to him first.” It was true, Eggsy had stopped avoiding him at home, but still hadn’t made the effort to start any conversations with Harry.

Merlin considered his friend before deciding that a gentle approach was best. He lowered his voice and asked, kindly “You know, you still haven’t actually told me what it is that you did?”

Harry looked at him and knew there was no hiding the truth from his expectant friend. “He kissed me.”

Merlin nodded. “Ah, right okay so you – wait. You didn’t- he –”

“He. Kissed. Me.”

Merlin blinked. _Damn. I owe Roxy twenty quid._

Harry read his expression and shook his head, “I take it I’ve just lost you some money?”

His friend ignored his comment and absently chewed his lip, “Okay, so you didn’t reciprocate or…?”

“I didn’t, no; but I didn’t refuse him either. I told I just needed some time to think. To process.”

“And have you…processed?” Merlin drew each syllable out as he tilted his head to the side and peered at Harry from under his glasses. Where the other Kingsman wore them for their work, Merlin’s were also functional prescription lenses, meaning that he never took them off and Harry could never be quite sure that he wasn’t being recorded. 

“I’m in love with someone I’ve known since they were six.” He punctuated the sentence with a sigh.

_And there it was again._

Merlin heaved a sigh. “You know, for all the time I spend telling Eggsy to take that chip off his shoulder, my time might be better spend telling you to get your head out of your arse.” He drained his cup in favour of ignoring Harry’s startled expression.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Harry, age isn’t a problem - at least, not in the way you think it is. Why, in Ancient Greece –” his perfectly prepared, and perfectly logical, argument was interrupted by Harry’s exasperated huff.

“For God’s sake Merlin, stop trying to justify everything by dragging up the Greeks.”

He relented. “Okay, well how about this. Eighty-year-old men marry twenty-something women all the time, and hardly anyone bats an eyelid.”

“I’m not an eighty-year-old pervert,” Harry’s glare had lost some of its heat since his newly acquired fringe obscured part of his eyebrows. 

Merlin took his chance. “No, but he’s definitely closer to twenty than you are. In fact, I took the liberty of looking at your file following our last conversation.”

“I thought you didn’t do that without sufficient reason,” Harry murmured with suspicion.

Merlin looked far too pleased with himself. He leaned across the table and joked in a conspiring whisper, “I had a very good reason. I had a suspicion your birthday was today, and I was right.” 

And hadn’t Harry been desperately trying to ignore that fact.

Merlin leant back in his seat, polishing off the last of his biscuit. “So, why don’t we-”

Once again his perfectly thought out proposal was cut short by Harry shaking his head and thrusting a finger at him. “No. Absolutely not. Never again.”

“Harry, I have spent the last twenty years apologising for that,” Merlin reasoned sensibly.

“I had never been arrested until I was thirty-two, I had a perfectly clean record,” he grumbled with an irate glower.

“You’ve a clean record now, ye daft bugger, Kingsman takes care of all that.”

“Yes, but I had a clean record on my own. One night with _you_ and-”

“I said I was sorry-”

Harry lowered his accusing finger and dragged his hand through his hair. Merlin could just about glimpse the angry pink scar before it was covered again. “The lecture I had to endure from Arthur because of you. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have your bail paid by your boss?”

“Well, yes. He paid mine too.” Harry’s face was becoming harder and harder to resist laughing at.

“No birthdays. Not with you. Not ever.”

“You’re no fun, Harry.” Merlin sighed, resigned. 

Harry wasn’t convinced. “Promise me you won’t do anything?”

“Promise.”

_But that doesn’t mean I won’t tell Eggsy so he can._

Plan already forming in his mind, he rose from his chair and gave Harry a semi-sincere salute, before starting to turn to leave the room. Harry had just started to shake his head when Merlin’s hand shot out and stole the last chocolate digestive on the plate, hurriedly stuffing it into his mouth and departing with his uniquely self-satisfied swagger. He ignored Harry’s indignant shout behind him as he closed the door.

_Now to figure out how to get Roxy to slip this into a conversation._

Harry watched his right hand leave with a fond smile. It seemed only right that he offer the position to Merlin, the man had been faithfully at his side for decades. He glanced back to the small pile of paper sitting at his left and straightened his back, settling in for the rest of the afternoon.

Their tax returns proved more pernickety than he originally anticipated, and Harry wasn’t ready to leave the shop until everyone else had gone home. He was vaguely aware of being left with the keys – his mind was far too preoccupied with trying to account for Merlin’s excessive expenditure in the last few weeks, something Harry was certain he did as a final act of punishment – at around five thirty, but by the time he glanced up at his wall clock it had just gone past seven. Deciding he’d spent more than enough time at his desk, he spent the next ten minutes sorting everything into its proper cabinet, leaving the still-unfinished tax forms lying at the head of the table, taunting him. 

He locked his door and went to stand at the counter in the shop below. There was something wondrously comforting about the stacks of material and the faint scent of tobacco mixed with tailor's chalk. The lights above the window display were always left on, and they cast a soothing glow into the street outside as Harry locked the main door.

He decided to forego the taxi that evening, dismissing his driver and instead taking a much needed wander through the quiet streets of London’s more glamorous shopping district. The city itself was never quiet, but there came a point during every night when the area surrounding the tailors would shut down. Harry cherished his peaceful walks home. There was far too much light pollution to see the stars, but Harry pictured them shining brightly all the same. He trusted his feet to carry him safely home – the route well known to him by now - and allowed his mind to wander. 

He hadn’t exactly had an easy life, but when compared with that of the one he loved it seemed as leisurely as his evening stroll. Born as an only child in to a wealthy, yet distant couple seemed to be the standard lot for someone of his position. He lost his mother as a young child, and his father could be forgiven for doing what all emotionally stunted widowers did in that sort of situation. He was packed off to boarding school, where he remained, estranged from his surviving parent, until he was of university age. 

Harry had never had an easy time of letting people close to him, having no prior reference, he simply didn’t know how to. Instead, he threw himself into his studies, quickly becoming the most competent language student Oxford had ever seen. Outside of his timetabled classes he taught himself to speak various Asian dialects, with the aid of some old and battered dictionaries he’d found, stuffed in the far corner of the lower level library. 

He was a talented sportsman, but preferred archery and precision based activities to the usual contact sports available at the university. He eventually developed a taste for mixed martial arts, and began training at night under a rather peculiar gentleman who refused to reveal his real name.

After a few months that gentleman brought him to a tailor’s shop on Saville Row. He introduced himself as Chester King, and offered him the opportunity of a lifetime. Harry was introduced to his new ‘family’ as Galahad, eight months later. He was twenty six years old.

It was within this new family that Harry discovered one - very persistent - young man who didn’t seem to understand that Harry wanted to be left in peace. The man they called Merlin refused to let Harry spend his evenings alone, and was consistently pestering him, even while in the field, to join him for a drink. When Harry finally accepted a few weeks later he realised that, despite his best efforts, he’d made a friend. 

Merlin continued to be his only friend until he encountered a very confused young man outside a police station. Before Harry knew what he was doing, he had let Eggsy worm his way into his heart alongside Merlin, and over time, he realised that Eggsy’s hold over his heart was entirely different to that of his friend’s. 

He was just contemplating whether or not Merlin had placed any bets on him reaching this realisation, when he noticed that his feet had done what he asked, and had faithfully carried him to his little cul-de-sac.

With his eyes world-weary and heavy-lidded, Harry sluggishly approached his front door, confused to see that all the lights had been switched off.

_No one had told him they were going out, and it was far too early for them to be in bed._

If anything, it was a relief. He could spend this birthday as he had all the others – having a quiet night in his favourite armchair, with a glass of scotch and a good book. 

He slid his key into the lock and was alarmed to find that the door was already open. He pushed it quietly, ready to tackle whatever awaited him inside. In his head he knew that HQ would be alerted the very second anyone tried to break into his home, but he couldn’t help himself fearing the worst, not with his guests’ safety at risk.

He listened carefully and relaxed as heard an aborted giggle and a quiet ‘hush’ coming from the dark kitchen. Mentally preparing himself to come face to face with a drunk Eggsy, Harry sighed and slung his jacket carelessly over the banister before rolling up his sleeves and trying to remember where Michelle had hidden the mop bucket. He had come to love the women dearly, but she really did need to stop moving his things about. 

As he neared the kitchen door he thought he heard someone counting softly, and as he flicked on the light switch by his shoulder he very nearly jumped back in fright.

_“Surprise!”_

The three people crowded in his kitchen doorway grinned, one with noticeably less teeth than the other two. Utterly perplexed by his welcoming party – but significantly calmer now that he was sure there was no intruder or intoxicated Eggsy to deal with - Harry took a step forward, only to have Eggsy and Michelle step to the side and reveal the simple cake with a single, unlit candle sitting on one of his best plates on the kitchen table.

Michelle smiled kindly at his stunned expression and grasped his shoulder before moving off to find a lighter.

Harry turned his confused face to Eggsy, who in that moment wanted nothing more than to take that face in his hands and kiss the disbelief away. Instead he held out Sophie, who was once again demanding to be placed in Harry’s arms. Harry took her silently, suddenly finding his throat very tight and his face very warm. He’d be lying if he said his eyes weren’t starting to dampen as well.

Michelle struggled to light the candle with an almost empty lighter as she and her son started to sing what was possibly the worst rendition of ‘Happy Birthday to You’ there had ever been, aided by Sophie’s joyfully horrendous squawking. 

_Harry thought he’d never heard anything more delightful._

His eyes met Eggsy’s as he sat, staring bemusedly at Michelle trying to force her son to use his fork, and found he couldn’t bring himself to care that Sophie was wiping her sticky, jam-covered paws all over his immaculate, bespoke suit. He could get another one. And as for a quiet night in with a drink and a novel, he could do that another evening.

_This he wouldn’t trade for all the world._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without really considering what he was doing, Harry pressed his nose to the pulse point and smiled as Eggsy let him, no longer caring if it was out of pity or something else. 
> 
> He took another deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of vanilla and baby powder, and allowed himself to hope for the latter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should totally just change my name to ladytrashbag
> 
> this chapter is dedicated to kelmikiti who actually got me away from hartwin long enough for me to finish my essay

When Merlin heard the gentle tapping on his door he expected Arthur to enter with the hard copies he promised him two days ago. He did not expect to turn his head away from his monitors to find Lancelot standing in the doorway, her arms folded and her expression unreadable.

“Why Ector?”

“Lancelot, a pleasure. Take a seat, won’t you?”

She stayed in the door, her eyes narrowed. “Why did you send Galahad to Belarus with someone who wasn’t his partner?”

Merlin sighed heavily, “Roxy, look-”

“And while we’re here, why did you send me to the Alps with Tristain? What are you doing?”

Merlin considered her carefully, “Who says I’m doing anything?”

“You’re up to something – and if it is what I think it is, then I want in.”

Merlin stilled, halfway out of his seat. “You what?”

“Please, you can’t expect me to help you when it’s convenient and then take all the credit for the results yourself. I know you’re pushing Eggsy and Harry together. I want in.”

Merlin smiled and lowered himself back into his chair, “Very well. Thank you for the birthday thing, by the way.”

“Pleasure, Eggsy said he enjoyed himself; apparently he didn’t expect anyone to make a fuss of him.”

“Yes, well, I’ve been banned in that respect.” A delicate eyebrow rose, “That’s a story for another time. Preferably when we are both old and grey and on our deathbeds.”

Roxy smirked and crossed the room to take the chair opposite Merlin, accepting his invitation to sit. She delicately crossed her legs and folded her hands on her lap, tilting her head to look at him with a calculated stare. “Are you going to give me an answer, then?”

The corner of Merlin’s lips quirked and he held her gaze.

“There’s something coming up in France. We’ll need two agents to infiltrate a human trafficking ring that may or may not be using something similar to Valentine’s tech to control their human cargo. Any two of you would do, but if I’m going to get anywhere with those two hopeless buggers I’m going to need to send them away together. It’s not unusual for a knight to be partnered with their former sponsor, but like you said, Arthur isn’t Galahad’s partner - you are. I’ve been assigning younger knights to the senior members under the pretence of establishing familiarity in turbulent times - the world is so much smaller now, and our pool of trustworthy allies has significantly decreased, who knows where you’ll be sent and with whom – but it’s become so regular now that no one will bat an eyelid when I propose sending Arthur with Galahad instead of you.”

“That’s brilliant,” Roxy admitted, impressed that he’d managed to fool even her. “I thought you were trying to test our compatibility with other knights to increase our range of adaptability.” 

“Well, it did have other, more beneficial side effects - unintended though they were.”

“You reorganised an entire Missions rota and decades of successful team-building just to set your friend up.” 

“Yes I did.” Merlin beamed with self-satisfaction, confident that his plan was working beautifully.

Roxy deliberated this for a moment before grinning, “And you’re going to use Eggsy as the bait to bring out Harry’s jealous side?”

Merlin snorted, “I’m not entirely sure Harry has a jealous side, he’s far too proud for that. But trust me, anyone lays a finger on that boy and Harry’d have their hand off before you could blink. The man has one hell of a temper, you’ve seen the pub footage.”

Roxy smiled fondly as she recalled Harry’s overprotective nature when it came to Eggsy, and the positively delectable justice he dealt to the men who threatened him. Then she frowned, “What else have you been doing to them, there must be something?”

Merlin gave her a smug smile as he began to leaf through a folder he’d plucked from the pile on his desk. “Oh, just little things here and there.”

Roxy’s eyes widened. “Like giving Harry jam scones but no napkins when we meet to report, even though you know he’s a frightfully messy eater and gets the jam all over his fingers?”

Merlin’s smile widened, “Aye, and haven’t you noticed how much Eggsy likes to watch him lick the jam off?”

Roxy shook her head in amusement as she rose from her seat. “You are a wonderfully evil man, Sir.”

“Of course I am. Now, if you don’t mind Lancelot, I’m expecting Arthur with a load of hard copy reports.”

She nodded politely and turned to leave the room. As she pulled the door towards herself she was met by Harry, one hand gripping a stack of dog-eared paper and the other poised as if to knock. Taking a step back to allow him into the room, she quickly departed with a final nod to Merlin and a respectful, “Arthur,” to Harry.

Harry watched her as she marched down the hall and turned off at the stairs that led down to the shop floor. He listened for the faint sounds of the shuttle lift whirring to life, before clicking the door shut and turning his piercing gaze on Merlin. Roxy was leaving, Eggsy was already gone, and David and Matthew – their tailors – had taken an early lunch.

_Time to open his ‘corner Merlin when there’s no one else around’ box._

Merlin read the intention on Harry’s face and sat back, dejectedly preparing himself for another ambush. Harry said nothing as he gracefully lowered himself into the seat Roxy had just vacated and unbuttoned his suit jacket. 

“Merlin,” he nodded.

“Arthur,” Merlin replied - knowing that Harry had already meticulously rehearsed the path of the conversation to come - and feeling in a good enough mood to allow Harry to take control.

“Your knee,” he gestured to Merlin’s left leg, papers still in hand, “what’s wrong with it?”

_Bugger. Didn’t think he’d notice that._

Merlin eyed the crumpled paper in Harry’s hand, idly wondering if he could change the topic of conversation to the state of his reports. A glance back at Harry’s irritated expression told him it wasn’t a good idea to try. He shifted in his seat and re-crossed his legs. Holding both hands up he shrugged, “I was shot, during the infiltration of Valentines lair.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “Eggsy didn’t say anything about that.”

Merlin removed his glasses and wiped them on the hem of his jumper to give his hands something to do. “That’s because Eggsy doesn’t know about it; and I’ll thank you not to go telling him either.”

“Why not?” Harry focused on keeping a straight face.

Merlin’s eyebrows rose high above the rim of his glasses, “Really, Harry? The boy’s already suffering from borderline survivor’s guilt, he doesn’t need this on top of it.” He glanced down at his own leg, “I’m fine, it wasn’t anything serious, just a nick.”

When he looked back up at Harry he saw the man struggling to contain a smile. “I knew you cared about him, even in your own, shall we say _unique_ , way.”

_Bugger._

Ignoring Harry’s self-satisfied grin, Merlin reached out and snatched the papers from his hands, absently grumbling about ‘blonde children’ that looked like ‘kicked puppies.’

Satisfied that his friend wasn’t in any immediate danger, Harry prepared to address the issue of the unusual partnerships, when Merlin thrust the handful of paper into his chest with a frustrated, “What do you call this?”

“The reports I promised you.”

“Aye, two days ago. Look at the state of them, Harry. It looks like you drowned half of them in coffee and slept on the rest; what on earth did you do to them?”

Harry wasn’t looking at him anymore, he was staring at the wrinkled papers in his lap spilling onto the floor with a little frown and pursed lips. There was something familiar in his eyes that prompted Merlin to slide out of his chair and kneel before him. Gingerly reaching up to avoid startling the other man, he placed his hand on Harry’s leg and squeezed.

“Harry?”

Blinking twice, and seeming entirely thrown by the sight of Merlin kneeling before him, Harry licked his dry lips and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Merlin stayed on his knees, but drew his hand back and placed both palms on his thighs, smoothing out the creases and staring intently at Harry. He was waiting for an answer.

_Bless him. He can be a considerate soul if he needs to be._

Harry tried to determine whether or not telling Merlin the truth would result in the conversation he desperately needed to have, or another trip to infirmary. Deciding to risk it, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“I’m not sleeping. Not as well as I should, at any rate.”

Merlin regarded the man sitting in front of him. He began adding together all of the signs he had seen before now, but hadn’t dwelled on. The tired eyes - heavy and sad as he sat alone in his office – with the dark circles beginning to form underneath them betraying the fact that Harry hadn’t been sleeping. He was paler than usual, and hadn’t been eating nearly as much. Though he had been adding nearly twice the amount of sugar to his tea.

_If that were even bloody possible._

He’d noticed his friend’s movements becoming slower, sluggish. Every act became a deliberate calculation, and not in the powerful sense. It was as if every move was carefully planned, as though he needed every ounce of strength he had to coordinate his hands. Merlin considered all of this as he stared into Harry’s heavy eyes, understanding that the other man couldn’t bring himself to reveal his weakness.

_Nightmares. Of course._

Acting on impulse, Merlin did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. Keeping his gaze locked with Harry’s, he rocked forwards on his knees until they were at eye level. Then, very slowly, he raised his hands and cupped the back of Harry’s head, bringing him closer until their foreheads were resting against each other. 

The soft hitch in Harry’s breath as he swallowed a sob told him he’d done the right thing.

 _Grounding_ , Harry had called it, _providing a focal point._

Even as Harry’s eyes slipped closed and tears began to spill down his cheeks, Merlin kept his eyes on Harry’s and his grip on the back of Harry’s neck firm. The other man began to weep in earnest as he slid to the floor to join Merlin on his knees, not once breaking the contact between their skin. Merlin too closed his eyes and held on tightly, relishing in the familiarity of the gesture. They’d done this before, years ago, when they were both fresh-faced additions to Kingsman. Harry had done it for him when he chose Percival over Bedivere, saving one man’s life but sacrificing the other. He had done it for Harry when he bungled that job in Minsk and five children had lost their lives because of his mistake. Harry returned the favour after Merlin lost sight of Kay - just for a few seconds, but long enough to miss the bomb. 

The last time he had used it to help the other man came when Harry missed something, and they lost a very promising young man in Iran. 

They stayed on the floor in silence until Merlin’s legs began to cramp and Harry’s eyes were dry. 

Merlin smiled fondly as he ran his fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Harry’s neck. “Better?” he asked softly.

Harry nodded shakily and coughed to clear his throat, his voice husky as he replied with a grin, “Much.”

Merlin heaved himself off the floor with a groan and a crack. “Too old to be kneeling for that long.”

Harry laughed hoarsely, “You wouldn’t be much use as a honey trap then.” 

Giving the man still kneeling on the floor an exasperated look, Merlin held out both hands and hauled his friend to his feet, dusting off the knees of his trousers for him.

As Harry straightened himself, Merlin tilted his head to the side. “Are you afraid of Eggsy finding out?” he enquired cautiously.

Harry stiffened. “Yes,” he replied simply. Merlin nodded with a soft tut, “Maybe he could help; he saw some pretty rough shit too.”

Harry considered this for a moment before shaking his head slowly, “No. Like you said, he has enough on his plate already.”

Merlin agreed and reached out to clasp Harry’s arm before he could leave. “Leave the reports here,” he insisted, “I’ll take care of it. Take an early night and get some rest.”

Harry was only too happy to agree.

Merlin watched him leave before bending down to retrieve the scattered papers. Nothing was in the correct order anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself to be angry at Harry. He’d sort the paperwork in the morning. 

Lowering himself back into his chair and spinning to face the monitors he noticed a little green message flashing at him from the corner of one screen. 

_URGENT._

 

Harry’s dreams that night weren’t the worst he’d had so far, but they still left him drenched in his own sweat, arching off the bed with a strangled gasp and gripping the sheets so tightly he was sure he heard them tearing. In the darkness of his bedroom he was incapable of knowing whether or not he had actually awoken. He raked his hands through his hair and pulled them back to find they were covered in something he couldn’t yet determine as being blood or sweat. 

Fumbling his way across the bed with sharp, panicked wheezes he tried to find the light, only to knock his glass of water onto the wooden floor. The sound of glass breaking made him flinch back and fumble even more desperately for some light. 

All around him he could hear them whispering. He remembered this feeling. The darkness. The same darkness that had claimed him as Valentine’s bullet tore through his skull and soft tissue. The same whispers.

_Murderer. You killed them all. All dead. All you._

In his terrified state of mind he didn’t hear his bedroom door opening, and lurched back along the bed when a hand reached out to grab his shoulder. He threw his arms up to protect his face as he heard a click.

There was a light behind his eyelids.

He cracked them open to see a familiar orange glow filling his room with warmth. Gingerly lowering his arms and trying to calm his erratic breathing, Harry peered closely at the intruder.

Eggsy sat, confused and afraid, on the end of his bed. He’d never seen Harry in such a state. His pyjamas were clinging to his sweat-drenched body, his hair was slick with it, his face damp with either perspiration or tears. Eggsy couldn’t tell which, but judging from the red-rimmed eyes frantically darting between him and the light he’d put his money on the latter. 

Eggsy shuffled closer to the man hyperventilating in the middle of the bed. “Harry?” No response. “Harry please, it’s Eggsy. Can you hear me?” At this the older man’s eyes locked him his and his breathing slowed. He gulped in a lungful of air and fisted his hands in the sheets. 

“Eggsy,” he croaked, “I’m sorry I woke you.” 

Eggsy shook his head. “I was walking back from the loo when I heard the glass smash.” He peered closely at Harry, who was having a rather difficult time trying to get his pounding heartbeat under control. “What was that?”

_No use avoiding it now, old boy._

Harry sniffed and hurriedly wiped away the tears he found dampening his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Dreams, Eggsy. I have dreams, sometimes.”

“About V-day?”

A shake of the head.

Eggsy frowned. “About the church? About getting shot?”

A nod.

Eggsy hissed and shuffled even closer to Harry. “Does this happen a lot?”

Another jerky nod.

“So how come I ain’t heard you before, are these walls soundproofed or summit’?” Eggsy glanced suspiciously around at the oak cladding. He turned his gaze back to the bed on the bed.

Harry shifted nervously, fiddling with the sleeve of his grey nightshirt. Seeing the earnest concern in Eggsy’s face gave him strength. He carefully unbuttoned his shirtsleeve and began to roll it over his forearm and to his elbow. With slow, deliberate movements he did the same to the other sleeve. Eggsy sat patiently – if not slightly perplexed – and waited. Harry, shamefaced, glanced up at him again. He turned his arms outwards, bearing his forearms to Eggsy.

At first Eggsy struggled to see what he was being shown in the dim, orange light provided by the bedside lamp. As he looked more closely he saw that both of Harry’s forearms were peppered with little crescent-shaped bruises, some old and faded yellow, and some an angry purple. It was only when he noticed that there were a few that had been made deep enough to draw blood that Eggsy realised they were bite marks. 

Harry had been biting his arms to keep himself from crying out. It made sense, Eggsy realised with a horrifying jolt to his stomach, if Harry had bitten his hands then Eggsy, and others, would have noticed. He frantically thought back and couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Harry with his sleeves rolled all the way up. Usually he just turned up his cuffs to uncover his wrists.

_He’d always done that though…hadn’t he?_

Looking at the pale arms bared to him now, Eggsy didn’t think that was the case.

Harry silently waited for the disgust he was sure would come; at least, he hoped it would be disgust. He didn’t think he could handle pity.

_Pathetic._

He was not prepared for Eggsy gently reaching out to trace the bruises on his arms. The younger man took one in each hand and ran his fingers over each and every little mark, lingering on those where blood had been drawn. He rubbed his hands up and over Harry’s clothed biceps and let them come to rest on the older man’s shoulders. Harry forced himself to look up.

Eggsy’s brows were furrowed together, his mouth set in a tight line. His eyes were damp - but oh so blue, even in the dull light. There was a kindness in those eyes Harry had longed to glimpse again, a love he had often seen when Eggsy buried his face in his sister’s hair, or kissed his mother’s cheek goodnight. He never dreamt that Eggsy would look at him like that.

Eggsy was overwhelmingly aware that he had to be careful with Harry in his current state, so he slowly reached up and cupped the back of Harry’s head with one hand, drawing him forward and settling the older man’s head on his shoulder. Once he was certain that Harry was agreeable, he brought both arms around to cocoon him, gently tracing his fingers up and down Harry’s nightshirt-clad back. 

Harry, startled by Eggsy’s gentleness, allowed himself to be pulled in. Adjusting to the sudden warmth, he hesitantly brought his arms around Eggsy’s waist and sighed with relief as Eggsy held him tighter. They sat on Harry’s bed, slumped together in a comforting embrace, the only sounds audible being Harry’s shallow breathing as he willed himself not to break. 

He felt rather than heard Eggsy’s voice as he gruffly whispered, “Don’t do that again.”

Not wanting to abandon the warmth of the younger man’s arms, Harry remained pressed against Eggsy’s chest. “What do you mean?”

Eggsy cleared his throat, blinking away tears and forcing his voice to remain steady, “If you have a bad dream, come and get me. Don’t try to be quiet. I’ll come get you if I hear you, and if not, you come in to me.”

“I’ll not have you losing sleep over me Eggsy,” Harry reasoned softly.

“And I’ll not have you hurting yourself because you don’t think anyone wants to listen,” Eggsy countered. Harry stiffened at his casual statement, relaxing again as he felt Eggsy’s hand running through his hair.

_How did he get so bloody lucky?_

He turned his face into the younger man’s neck, and allowed himself to breath in the trace of vanilla – _he’s had a shower, then_ \- of baby powder – _changed Sophie recently_ \- and – _is that my deodorant?_ Harry couldn’t bring himself to care that the younger man had been raiding his toiletry bag again - his mind was too preoccupied with memorising the warmth of Eggsy’s arms around him as the gripped him tightly, the solid shoulder under his cheek revealing the strength his charge had worked so hard to build up. He allowed his eyes to slip closed as he focused on matching his breathing with Eggsy’s. They were so close he could feel the other’s pulse at the base of his neck.

Without really considering what he was doing, Harry pressed his nose to the pulse point and smiled as Eggsy let him, no longer caring if it was out of pity or something else. 

He took another deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of vanilla and baby powder, and allowed himself to hope for the latter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he crossed the room to envelope Harry in his arms, he thought back to the incident in the shower and made a silent vow to himself to do something about the ridiculous relationship they were forcing upon one another.
> 
> About bloody time too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hurr durr
> 
> for Rosa, who's ever so willing to let me bounce my headcanons around her noggin

Harry felt like he was drowning.

The air around him was thick and hot and he couldn’t breathe and he felt – like he was drowning. Hands grasped his ankles and dragged him down. There were no whispers this time. No screaming. No blood. 

_Silence. And he was drowning in it._

He was jolted awake with a startled cry as he felt strong arms wrap around him and haul him upright. Harry’s eyes opened with a snap as he found himself with his face pressed into Eggsy’s neck, one of the younger man's hands raised to the back of his head to keep him there.

_It was quickly becoming one of his favourite places._

Five days had passed since Eggsy had discovered Harry’s little secret, and each night Eggsy had been there for him when he heard him wake. Each night he held him as he sobbed brokenly, haunted by the images of the church and of Valentine and of the blood.

_So much blood._

Eggsy would rock him back and forth the way he did Sophie when she was feeling ill or frightened, calming him by running his blunt fingernails over Harry’s scalp. Harry would permit it until he could breathe normally again, and then would pull away with an embarrassed, self-depreciating smile, insisting that Eggsy could go back to his room. Eggsy always hesitated, but he always did what Harry asked. 

Harry’s eyes were dry tonight.

Eggsy realised this as he reached to trace his thumb along Harry’s cheekbone and finding flushed, but perfectly dry, skin instead of the dampness he expected. He hadn’t turned the light on, knowing that Harry didn’t like to be seen like this. Figuring that since he seemed to be more composed than usual, Eggsy gave his shoulders a squeeze and drew back, gesturing to the stairs.

“Tea?”

“Please.”

They quietly made their way to the kitchen - where Eggsy cursed Harry’s stupid, loud kettle. Of course the man was completely against buying a new one. _“Makes the best tea,”_ he said, and wouldn’t listen to Eggsy arguing that it was the bag - and not the water - that made the tea good.

“How do you take it again?” Eggsy asked as Harry seated himself at the table.

“Hot water in first,” he watched Eggsy fill his cup, “now, dip the bag in to colour the water.”

Eggsy was repulsed, “That’s not tea, Harry.”

“I don’t like it strong,” Harry shrugged.

Eggsy shook his head, and stirred in more sugar than he was comfortable with. “Rank,” he declared. “How does your coffee do anything for you then?”

“With coffee, if you can’t tar a road with it, I don’t want to know.” 

Eggsy snorted as he passed Harry the delicate china teacup, “Most people like it the other way round.”

Harry sipped his tea and pursed his lips. “Pass the sugar, would you?”

Eggsy blinked. “There’s like, four in there already.”

Harry didn’t wait for his response before he was out of his chair and bumbling back into the kitchen. Adding another two teaspoons, he took the seat next to Eggsy and held the cup close to his face, relishing the warmth in his hands. With his hair mussed, his eyes bleary, and a contented little smile on his face, Eggsy was once again struck by how much he adored the man in front of him. He resisted reaching out and fixing the robe that was slipping down Harry’s shoulders.

They drank their tea in comfortable silence until Harry, glancing at the clock in the dining room, made the executive decision that they should both go back to bed.

Eggsy obediently followed him up the stairs and stopped him before he could enter his room. Without saying anything he gave Harry’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and nodded.

Harry’s hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to cup Eggsy’s face, but drawing back before it could reach its destination. Embarrassed, Harry uttered a quick, “Goodnight,” before snapping the door behind him and dropping his head back with a heavy thud.

_Hart, you bloody coward._

The next morning Harry awoke to find Eggsy already gone and Michelle making porridge in the kitchen.

“Want any?” she asked brightly as he fumbled about, searching for his favourite pen. 

Warily eyeing the greyish slop bubbling away in his pot he smirked, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Oh come on,” Michelle balanced Sophie on one hip while she poked Harry in the shoulder. “It’s the oat stuff, nice and healthy.” She received an exasperated look.

“Exactly. Have we got any bacon?”

Michelle sighed and set Sophie down on the counter top, tweaking her nose before turning to face Harry, hands on hips. “I thought your doctor told you to watch your cholesterol?”

“He did. But why should I need to waste a moment worrying when he so diligently watches it for me?”

“He told me to watch it for you too.”

Smiling, Harry approached her and dropped a gentle kiss on the cheek she offered, “Which is why you get tut disapprovingly as I cook a round of delicious fatty, fatty bacon.” He was halfway to the front door when he stopped and called back to her, “Need anything while I’m out?”

Michelle’s face appeared from behind the doorframe, “Some more Calpol if you can, Harry. Sophie’s throat isn’t getting any better.” The little girl in the kitchen gave a concurring whimper. 

Acknowledging her request with a wave of his hand Harry set off for the shop. As he rounded the end of his street heard a sharp beeping coming from his pocket.

_What could Merlin want this early?_

Ducking into a nearby alleyway, Harry slipped his glasses on and connected Merlin’s call. “Problem?”

“I need you in here, Sir. Now.”

The urgency in Merlin’s voice alarmed Harry enough for him to jog his way to the shop. He was greeted by David ready to escort him to the dining room. Merlin was waiting for him, pacing nervously about the room. As David clicked the door shut behind Harry, Merlin turned to face him with a scowl.

“We have a mole.”

Harry’s stomach dropped. He swallowed and exhaled loudly through his nose. Taking a breath to steady himself he spoke, “Do we know who it is?”

Merlin rubbed the bridge of his nose, a habit he had when he was frustrated. “No, we don’t. But it can only be one of four people. Before Arthur – I mean, Chester – died, he spoke with six of the knights. He must have said something to one of them.”

Harry was astounded that he could still find his voice, “You said four.” 

“I’ve narrowed it down to four. The messages were being sent from the K base, but they were heavily encrypted. It’s not Kingsman work, I can tell you that, but only four of the six that Chester spoke to have shown any aptitude for transmitting and encryption techniques. They’re getting outside help to transmit their messages, but they’d have to know their way around the network to even start.” He handed Harry four, dark green folders. “These are the four.”

Harry spread them out on the table and scanned the names printed in gold lettering across the front of each folder.

_Agrivaine. Bors. Kay. Gawaine._

Harry’s stomach turned again, “Not Gawaine, surely?”

Merlin shook his head, “Could be. He was always strangely interested in my work, and he was the last one to speak to Arthur alive.”

Harry refused to believe it. Gawaine was the only Kingsman, other than Merlin and Lancelot’s predecessor, that he allowed himself to become close to. The concept of Gawaine’s treachery utterly devastated him, and he felt bile rise up in his throat.

Merlin read the anxiety in Harry’s expression. “You can take him then.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You, me, Lancelot and Galahad. We’ll take one each and investigate. I’ll set up some recon mission, get us out in the field, and lure them in with the prospect of important information. The mole won’t be able to resist.”

“Merlin, you’ve been going on for days now about Paris. Is this sudden change wise?”

Merlin sighed in resignation, “This is infinitely more important than Paris; Paris can wait.”

Harry nodded, still stunned at the prospect that their closest friends could have betrayed them. A thought suddenly came to mind, “Who’s taking the others?”

“I’ll take Agrivaine, he was always the most volatile. Bors is a grumpy bastard, but nothing Lancelot can’t handle. Which leaves Galahad-”

“-with Kay,” Harry finished with a mutter. Something unpleasant settled in his gut at the prospect of Eggsy spending time alone with Kingsman’s most charming agent.

“Don’t worry Harry, Kay’s always been an arrogant prick, but he’s pretty small. Unless he has some powerful friends I doubt very much that he has the capacity to pull this off.” Merlin considered the folders in front of him, scrutinising each headshot. “My money’s on Agrivaine,” his finger came to rest of the photograph of a sour looking gentleman with thick, black hair and unnervingly blue eyes. Not at all like Eggsy’s.

_Now where did that come from?_

He was brought back to the situation at hand by the sound of Merlin calling in Lancelot and Galahad. He sat silently as the other two were informed of the situation, immensely proud of the control Eggsy had over his temper as he calmly asked Merlin what their plan was. 

_It was simple._

Merlin would invent the promise of a hard drive giving access to the activation codes for several Eastern European nuclear armaments. They would then take their designated agent to a prearranged meeting point, feeding the footage of their encounters back to David – _codename: Excalibur_ \- who, on top of being a highly skilled tailor, was trained well enough to operate Merlin’s computer in his absence. The four of them instructed their partners that they were the ones who had to grab the goods, and a Kingsman never disobeys a direct order, thus if their partner tried to take it for themselves they would be presumed to have nefarious intentions.

In retrospect, Merlin’s idea to try and prepare Galahad for his and Harry’s upcoming trip to France by sending Galahad and Kay to a seedy sex-dungeon masquerading as a gay bar wasn’t the wisest he’d ever had. He did, however, have the foresight to send them all to locations within a two mile radius of each other, just in case there arose any unpleasantness.

Eggsy was having a difficult time hearing Kay over the deafening music, but he was pretty sure this guy was flirting with him. A lot. It was making him very uncomfortable.

It wasn’t that the man was unattractive, quite the opposite. In fact, just a few years ago the man in front of him would have been exactly everything Eggsy was looking for. He was tall, he was fair-haired, he was built as _fuck_ , and the permanent smirk on his face coupled with the smugness in his piercing green eyes told Eggsy he knew it.

So yeah, Eggsy might have gone for that once. 

_Once._

Now though, his heart beat for something entirely different. The height thing stayed the same, but he preferred soft, chestnut locks - slightly greying with age - to the slicked back blonde in front of him. Green eyes did nothing for him now, not when he could lose himself in the warmth of mahogany irises framed with thick, dark lashes. He didn’t want buff anymore, he wanted the air of grace and gentleness that carefully masked the brutal strength in a lean frame.

_He wanted Harry._

Unfortunately Harry was raiding a fake office four streets away with a slightly plump, bearded man that was introduced to Eggsy as Gawaine. The knight had kind blue eyes and a hearty smile as he grasped Eggsy’s offered hand in both of his. Eggsy hoped that he wasn’t the mole.

 _Although_ , he thought as he considered Kay sitting next to him, _mines getting pretty damn nervous over here._

“Excalibur, when’s the bloody mark arriving?”

“Soon, Sir. I have sight of him making his way to your location. Do you remember your orders?”

Kay scoffed and knocked back another double vodka. “Of course I do, distract the bugger and let Galahad here grab the goods.” Eggsy tried to ignore the jab of an elbow to his side.

David signed off as Kay ordered another drink, looking increasingly more nervous as he shot furtive glances towards the door. 

_Strange for such a seasoned agent to be so worked up over a simple snatch and grab._

Eggsy sipped his beer and watched his partner’s skittish behaviour. Taking out his phone he opened a blank text and typed a message to David.

_Something’s wrong with this one._

David’s soft voice somehow made itself heard over the background din, “I concur, Sir. Gawaine has been proven innocent; Arthur confronted him and he provided an audio recording of his last conversation with Chester King. It seems Gawaine had his own suspicions, and had been trying to secure a confession. Would you like me to send Arthur and Gawaine to your location?”

Eggsy considered this before typing his reply.

_Do it._

Having Harry with him could only make things better. David’s voice came through louder than before, “Mark has arrived, Sirs.” 

Kay swivelled in his chair and grabbed his drink before sauntering over to a middle-aged Asian man with a receding hairline, Eggsy following closely behind. 

When he reached the man in the middle of the room, Kay threw his right shoulder into the man’s chest and spilt his vodka all over the expensive looking suit. 

“M’sorry mate,” Kay drunkenly slurred, as Eggsy deftly slipped his hand into the pocket he knew contained the hard drive. Poking the mark in the side to let him know the job was done, Eggsy began walking towards the back exit, hearing Kay pretend to drunkenly stumble out behind him.

_Huh. Maybe he’s not the mole, maybe he’s just a dick._

Just as Eggsy processed this thought he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head, knocking his glasses onto the ground. He heard a sickening crunch and knew they had been lost to Kay’s foot. Before he could blink he found himself pinned against a wall, with Kay’s hand wrapped painfully around his throat.

“What are you up to eh, pretty boy. Who’s on to me?”

The hand around Eggsy’s throat tightened and he aimed a fist at Kay’s stomach. It was easily blocked, as the much stronger man grasped both of Eggsy’s wrists and twisted them painfully above his head. “I can see why Arthur keeps you around. He won’t mind me having a go, will he?”

Kay slammed his mouth onto Eggsy’s, using the weight of his significantly heavier body to keep him pinned to the wall. He forced his lips apart and thrust his tongue to meet Eggsy’s. Furious, Eggsy bit down on the offending appendage, tasting blood as Kay reared back.

“Brat!” Kay spat at him, “Hasn’t anyone ever bothered to teach you some manners?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth did he yelp as his collar was seized and heaved back by the full force of an enraged Harry Hart. 

Harry was slightly taller than Kay, something Eggsy noted as the older man fisted his hand in the front of Kay’s shirt and all but hissed at him, “I’ll give you manners, _boy_.”

_The poor bastard never even saw it coming._

Eggsy sat on the damp alleyway flagstones watching in awe as Harry drove his fist Kay in the face, the sound of crunching bone audible even over the music - again and again, and again…and again. When it became clear that Harry had no intention of stopping any time soon – despite Kay’s face barely resembling a face anymore – Eggsy felt obliged to step in.

He approached Harry from the side, giving the man time to see him. Carefully he laid his hand on Harry’s arm. The effect was instantaneous. The tension drained from Harry’s body as he looked at Eggsy’s pleading face. “Don’t kill him, Harry - we need him, yeah?”

Harry’s harsh breaths almost drowned out the wheezing and sputtering of the man still help in his iron grip. Almost. 

Harry dropped him to the ground with a thud and straightened his back, smoothing down the wrinkles in his suit and wiping Kay’s blood on his handkerchief. When the once pristine cloth was safely tucked back in Harry’s suit, and the man had combed a hand through his hair, he turned to Eggsy and scanned the boy for any injuries. Satisfied that the blood in his mouth was not his own, Harry turned around and knelt beside the still wheezing Kay.

“You’re a disgrace.”

He rose to his feet and without another glance at the broken man beneath him he cupped Eggsy’s elbow and pulled him out of the alleyway, looking to all the world as prim and proper as ever.

_Manners maketh man indeed._

Upon finding Gawaine keeping watch at the alley entrance, Harry turned and whispered something in his ear, gesturing at the body lying in a heap behind them. Gawaine nodded and headed toward Kay.

Eggsy turned to find Harry watching him, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a tight, thin line. Without saying anything Harry nodded once and pulled him towards the taxi waiting for them. The ride back to the shop was uncomfortably silent, the only sound Harry's harsh breathing. They entered the shop in silence. Harry handed a folder to Merlin in silence. Eggsy sat in silence. He eventually felt himself drifting off.

When it was time to leave Harry turned to the young man slumped in the chair and gently tugged his shoulder forward to rouse him. Eggsy noticed his mouth was still set in a hard grimace. He couldn't quite figure out what that grimace was for.

Harry barely managed to control himself as they made their way home. 

Fists clenching and unclenching, he decided that not taking the taxi was a terrible idea, for while it did clear his head, it also gave him an opportunity to look at Eggsy, really look. An opportunity to stare at the hard line of his jaw as he raved about Kay’s betrayal. A chance to observe how he moved in that beautiful suit, his strides wide, the fabric clinging to his legs deliciously every time he took a step forward. 

He couldn’t shake the image of Kay’s fingers gripping those thighs. If he had arrived any later-no. Eggsy could have handled the bastard himself. 

_Damn lucky it was just me_ , he thought, _I might nearly have killed him, but Eggsy definitely would have._

As they came to a halt at the crossing beside their street, Eggsy realised that throughout the entire he had been speaking, Harry had stayed silent. He glanced at the older man from the corner of his eye. 

_He looks fucking pissed. Probably at me. I should have called Kay in earlier._

Eggsy thrust his hands into his trouser pockets as Harry stalked along beside him. The man was positively radiating an intense, angry heat. Deciding that he would be safer leaving Harry to seethe in peace, Eggsy said bid him a quick, “Goodnight,” and bolted up the stairs two at a time.

Harry watched him go, his brows drawn together and lips downturned. He looked down at his hands, clean for the most part but still faintly crusted with Kay's blood. He slowly made his way up the stairs and, remembering to grab a towel from the hot-press, entered the bathroom. He turned on the shower, giving the water time to heat up, and stood, considering his reflection in the mirror until the steam made it impossible to see. Shredding his bespoke armour he placed it on the chair in the corner of the room, before stepping through the glass doors and under the wonderfully inviting spray of water. What was normally a calming experience did not appear to be having the desired effect that night.

He told himself he could ignore it. Kay had been dealt with, Merlin assured him of that. No one would touch Eggsy again.

_No one would touch his boy._

For all that he tried to tell himself this there remained a certain part of him that was still very interested. He could just hear Eggsy cooing at Sophie in the next room over the rush of water and hum of the bathroom fan.

 _I shouldn’t be doing this_ , he thought as he took himself in hand. His mind flooded with the memory of Eggsy’s swollen lips, his eyes trained on Harry. The overwhelming stab of arousal he felt as he saw the younger man backed against a wall.

_Should have been me doing that._

His eyes slipped closed as his teeth caught his bottom lip, and he was back in the living room. Eggsy’s smile, the gentle press of warm lips on his. The feel of Eggsy’s solid jaw in his hands, the softness of his cheek as he traced it with his fingers. 

_That tongue._

He was in the kitchen, eyes glued to Eggsy’s fingers as they rose to his mouth, gently licking away traces of sugar, jam, grease and one that one glorious occasion, vanilla cream. It was Harry’s birthday. There were two other people in the room and all he could do was stare at the tiny blob of cream sitting on the corner of Eggsy’s lips, and the little flash of pink as his tongue darted out to catch it.

Harry stifled a breathy moan as he braced himself on the cold, tiled wall. Keeping on hand firmly gripping the rim of the shower door, he smeared his thumb through the wet bead that had gathered at the head of his cock, dragging back his foreskin and leisurely stroking himself as he pictured the man in the other room. He imagined that it was Eggsy’s hand bringing him to completion, imagined that it was his beautiful boy’s tongue tracing along his lips instead of his own, and that the husky breaths he could hear were coming from those perfect pink lips. 

His eyes snapped open and he released his hold on the shower door to bring his hand to his mouth, falling back against that cold wall, as his body shuddered with a powerful orgasm. 

If Harry had been more careful he would have remembered that the fan sounded much louder to those inside the bathroom than those standing outside. Had he remembered this he would also have taken greater care to keep his voice low. 

Furthermore, if Harry had bothered to look through the steam-fogged glass of the enclosed shower he would have realised that he hadn’t properly closed the bathroom door behind him, and he would have certainly noticed the young man standing outside - struck dumb at the image of Harry coming with a startled gasp of ‘Eggsy’- through the crack in the door.

As it was, Harry neither remembered nor noticed any of these things, so lost was he in the guilt of masturbating to the thought of a boy that had been forcefully pushed against a wall by the dreadfully unpleasant Kay only a few hours earlier. 

As he drew deep, steady breaths in an effort to calm his pounding heart, Harry leaned forward and stood underneath the shower head. He let the warm water wash over him until he was certain that any traces of his moment of weakness had been swept away. Grabbing his towel from the top of the door he staggered from the shower, legs still unsteady, and gripped the edge of the sink until his knuckles were as white as the porcelain. He glowered at the flushed face of the man panting in his reflection, before angrily storming from the bathroom. 

Had he turned to the left before he entered his bedroom he would have seen an equally flushed Eggsy pressing himself against the wall. Instead, the young man was treated to the sight of the dim hall lamp’s light playing across the wetness of Harry’s naked back as he passed him, clad only in a white fluffy towel.

Eggsy stood outside the door until he was sure he heard Harry’s bed creaking. He quietly slipped into the bathroom and shirked his clothing as fast as he could, making sure to close the door behind him and bolt it in place. The mirror’s glass was still fogged, streaked in the middle where Harry had tried to clear enough of it to glare at himself. Eggsy stepped towards the shower, the scent of Harry’s sandalwood and cinnamon soap getting stronger. 

_Heady and sweet, like brandy. Warm, like Harry._

He stood under the spray and watched the water cascading down his own chest in rivulets, quickly washing his hair and mourning the loss of Harry’s smell, drowned out by his own citrus shampoo. His hair taken care of, Eggsy braced himself against the door as Harry had done only moments before. 

He pictured Harry as he had been, propped up against the wall, breathless chest heaving, hand roughly working himself to the brink. His hair had clung to his scalp and forehead, his eyes screwed shut and his face relaxed in helpless ecstasy. He remembered the shape of Harry’s lips as he stuttered Eggsy’s name. Eggsy sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and let out a quiet whimper, not entirely dissimilar to Harry’s name, as he came in thick jets against the shower door. 

Like Harry had done, he waited for the evidence to be washed down the plug hole before retrieving his towel and his clothes. While he was satisfied that he had been much quieter than Harry, he still waited at the door to make sure Harry’s room was silent, before tiptoeing across the landing to his own.

He lay in bed that night, restless and unable to sleep. He had just glanced at the digital display on his phone - frustrated that it read 2:58 and he was still awake - when he heard Harry’s bed squeaking as the man began to throw himself around in his sleep. Eggsy hurried out of bed and into his dressing gown.

He pushed open Harry’s door and found the older man sitting bolt upright, shaking his head and staring at Eggsy in despair. As he crossed the room to envelope Harry in his arms, he thought back to the incident in the shower and made a silent vow to himself to do something about the ridiculous relationship they were forcing upon one another.

_About bloody time too._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Closing his eyes he pictured Harry on the nights he’d held him, rocking him slowly back and forth. He remembered lowering his face and burying it in Harry’s hair, pressing his lips to the man’s forehead in chaste kisses. He remembered the feeling of Harry’s thumb pressing against his lips that night in the living room, the night he’d ruined everything. He remembered the feeling of having Harry pressed against him in the bathroom of that club, his nails digging into Harry’s back and relishing in the warmth radiating off the older man as he bit down on Eggsy’s neck. 
> 
> Raising a hand to touch the mark he knew would be there Eggsy smiled. He made up his mind as he heard the sound of the shower turning off.
> 
> Great, now how the fuck am I supposed to do this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah um, its late because I went to see this stupid life-ruining movie for the 6th time last night and its gotten to the point where I don't have to pay attention to the plot or dialogue anymore I can just stare at Colin Firth for an hour it is a wonderful time to be alive.
> 
> Also I see that quite a few of you have followed me on tumblr because of this and I would like to apologise in advance for the shit that I reblog, but if any of you want to join in on the headcanon parties then feel free to message me.

Eggsy rocked nervously on the balls of his feet, feeling unsure as to whether or not he should talk to Merlin.

_Paris. We’re going to fucking Paris._

He couldn’t deny how perfect the timing was, but Eggsy was beginning to wonder whether his grand confession of undying love for Harry would be well received, if at all welcome. The older man had become just as withdrawn as he had been before his altercation with the former agent, Kay. Eggsy had since engaged Harry in conversation, but that’s all it ever was. A polite chat over dinner, with his mum listening in. A quick and generic, ‘how was your day,’ if either one of them was home later than the other. 

_He was very nearly tempted to point out that Harry had been taking longer showers than usual, if only to keep the older man talking for longer than a few minutes._

Deciding to brave the storm, Eggsy sucked in a breath and tapped the glass of Merlin’s office door. It seemed unusual for the man to have an office when he spent all of his time at HQ, but there were days when Harry needed him at the shop. Harry insisted that Merlin confine himself to the little back room for those days, so he was available when Harry needed him. Merlin complained. Loudly and often. 

_Eggsy suspected it was Harry’s revenge for Merlin’s excessive spending during those first few weeks._

He heard Merlin give his permission to enter, but upon opening the door he found the man hunched over his desk with a dozen iPads scattered across the surface, each in a different stage of dismantlement. He seemed to be doing something very complicated and possibly illegal to join them together.

“Merlin?” The man at the desk gave a non-committal grunt and a vague gesture for him to continue.

“You’ve known Arthur for a long time, right?”

Merlin huffed out a laugh as he closed his eyes and smiled fondly. He leaned back in his chair and stretched before turning to Eggsy. “Longer than either of us would like to admit, I’m afraid,” he grinned.

Merlin’s easy smile calmed Eggsy, and gave him the courage to continue, “So, you’d know him pretty well yeah? I mean you’d know how he’d react if someone- say if they, you know- um…tried to-“

Merlin stopped his runaway sentence in its tracks by raising both hands and gesturing for Eggsy to take a seat.

_He’d had enough of this._

“Eggsy,” he began, feeling it was best to drop the codenames, “Harry is my oldest and dearest friend, but anyone that wants to call him out on his emotionally constipation will have to form an orderly queue behind yours truly.” Eggsy was silent, taken aback by the frustration in Merlin’s voice. “He’s never going to admit it, but he has trouble letting people in. If you want to get close to Harry you have to push him, and bloody hard at that.”

Merlin sighed and spun in his chair to face Eggsy as he continued, “Harry has always been overly concerned with everyone else’s’ feelings, to the point where he often forgets about his own.” He thrust a finger in the direction of a monitor showing Harry in Arthur’s office, diligently filing his paperwork, “If that man was left to his own devices he’d never be happy a day in his life.”

He paused, frowning, and considered the young man in front of him.

_It’s bloody obvious enough now, so if Harry won’t do it then I guess I will._

He glanced back at Harry’s monitor.

_You’ll thank me later, old friend._

Taking a deep breath Merlin leaned forward and placed one hand on Eggsy’s knee. “He loves you; any fool could see that, but Harry’s just too much of a fool himself to admit it. And everyone knows how you look at him like the sun shines out his bloody arse when you think no one can see you.”

_He tried not to enjoy the wide-eyed expression of shock on Eggsy’s face, though he didn’t try terribly hard._

Eggsy seemed to have swallowed his tongue, but his eyes darted to the side and focused on the image of Harry making himself a cup of tea. He blinked once. Twice. Then turned back to focus on Merlin’s smug grin.

“Bu- but he said…he said he needed time?” Eggsy stuttered.

_Oh you’re both so fucking juvenile._

“Yes,” Merlin began, speaking slowly and deliberately as if talking to a child, “but he thought you’d changed your mind and, shall we say, withdrawn the offer.” He ended the sentence with a tilt of his head and an arched brow as if to say, ‘well?’

Eggsy chose his words very carefully, clearly unsure. “So, he’s being normal ‘cause he thinks I don’t want him anymore?” 

“Harry isn’t used to being wanted,” Merlin said simply, “I don’t think he’s ever had a real relationship, outside of bedding a mark for a case.”

The concept of no one offering to throw themselves at Harry Hart’s feet was utterly foreign to Eggsy, who felt like was losing a daily battle to refrain from doing exactly that. Finally, he found his voice again.

“Do you mind if I ask why?”

Something in Merlin’s face shifted as he withdrew his hand and sat back. Eggsy got the distinct feeling that he shouldn’t have asked the question. 

“I’m sorry, Merlin, I didn’t mean to-”

Merlin stopped him again with a raised hand, “No. It’s fine, but you’ll have to forgive me when I say that I can’t tell you that.” Eggsy nodded. “Harry Hart is as honest as they come; you ask him straight, and you’ll get a straight answer.” Another nod.

Merlin smirked, unable to help himself, “But should you run into any difficulty getting him to cooperate; Harry’s real name is Harold Henry Hart, and that never fails to get his attention.”

Despite still dealing with his inner turmoil at discovering that Harry did indeed reciprocate his own, deeper feelings –and had just been trying to put Eggsy’s needs before his own, however misplaced the good intentions were - Eggsy found himself scoffing, “Harold?”

“He hates it,” leered Merlin, “Use it wisely.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As Eggsy turned to leave, feeling so much lighter than he had when he entered, he stopped and grinned at Merlin, “I’m beginning to see why Harry likes you.”

Merlin barked a laugh as he bent back over his desk and picked up a soldering iron, “No, Eggsy, you’re beginning to see why Harry hates me!” He smiled to himself as he heard Eggsy’s answering cackle echoing off the walls down the hall. 

_Harry won’t know what’s hit him._

With that thought he gathered his notes on Kay’s interrogation and marched himself to Harry’s office, throwing the doors open without knocking and delighting in the fact that he managed to catch Harry off guard.

“So, turns out Kay wasn’t infinitely more important than Paris.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose above the rim of his glasses as Merlin slid the folder towards him.

“Kay was feeding information to the terrorist ring I’ve been tracking in France. They’re very interested in Valentine’s tech, except they’re not trying to wipe out the human race.” Shifting his clipboard into his left hand he tapped the surface and gestured at the projection in the mirror. “These pictures were taken three weeks ago in a warehouse by the river in Besançon.” The first image showed six people being forced to their knees by unknown assailants, the next depicted them having collars tightened around their necks. Merlin tapped his board again and a video clip began to play. The victims’ bodies writhed on the hard ground as they screamed. Merlin flicked to the next image; this time there were more people and the collars were smaller. 

“Auxonne, outside Dijon.”

The next showed even more people, but this time there were no collars. The clip Merlin played for him was eerily reminiscent of watching Professor Arnold’s head explode. 

“The last we heard of them, they were in Sens.”

With a final tap to his board Merlin started the clip. The kneeling man had his hands bound, but stared defiantly at his captor, the man beside him was sobbing. _“Lève toi!”_ came a disembodied voice from behind the camera’s line of sight. Something in the kneeling man’s eyes shifted as he obeyed, swaying on his feet. Suddenly a figure came to stand in front of him. He cut the ropes and handed the man a small pistol. _“Tire sur ton pote!”_ _Shoot your friend._

He obeyed without question, without even glancing back at the figure on the floor. _“Maintenant, tire-toi une balle.”_ _Shoot yourself._

The man turned the gun on himself without hesitation. Harry flinched as the shot echoed through his office. The man fell to the floor beside his friend, and his captor approached the camera. The clip stopped.

Harry felt Merlin’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “These men aren’t trying to kill anyone Harry.”

“Mind control.”

“Kay was giving them access to everything we had on Valentine. He was especially interested in your medical records.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “And why would that be?”

“I must have scanned your brain a hundred times trying to find out what Valentine did to you. Kay was going to give them the scans, all of your details.”

“Going to?”

“You bashed his head in, remember.”

“Ah.”

Merlin cleared the mirror as Harry slipped his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “To Paris then, I take it?”

“To Paris,” Merlin nodded and backed towards the door. He waited for Harry to raise his teacup before declaring, “I’ll inform Galahad.” 

Harry choked and spat brown liquid all over his pristine paperwork. Glowering at the man struggling to contain his smile in the doorway, he cleared his throat. “Galahad?” 

“Of course,” said Merlin cheerfully, “I’ve been pairing younger agents with senior knights for weeks now, improving their adaptability and team-building skills.” _Liar_ , thought Harry. “You’re the only one Galahad hasn’t had the pleasure of working with, so he’s with you on this one. I’ve already booked a hotel,” Merlin continued.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. _He is far too bloody cheerful about this._

The thought stayed with him as he settled in the plush seat waiting for Eggsy to board the Kingsman jet. “You could have at least told me earlier that he was my partner, though I really should have guessed by now.”

“Yes,” came Merlin’s voice from the cockpit, “you should have!”

Harry tried not to roll his eyes as he caught sight of Eggsy struggling up the steps with his bags. He lifted himself out of his seat, preparing to help the boy, when he realised that Eggsy wasn’t wearing his suit. He wasn’t wearing an awful lot really.

Tight jeans that looked as though they had been painted on his shapely legs and a black vest that was at least three sizes to small and that Harry couldn’t bring himself to give a damn about. The vest clung to Eggsy’s upper body perfectly, revealing the delicious curves of his arms as he heaved his heavy bag over his shoulder and started towards Harry.

_He looked positively edible._

Eggsy smiled at Harry and went to store his things with the rest of their luggage. The older man didn’t bother trying not to stare at his back as he passed him, whirling his head back around to glare at Merlin when he heard the man sniggering from the front of the plane. He raised his index finger and pointed at Merlin.

_You._

Merlin smirked and left his seat to join them. “Comfortable, Eggsy?” he asked as the younger man claimed the seat opposite Harry. 

“Don’t see how he can be in clothes that tight,” remarked Harry grumpily. 

Eggsy beamed. “Like ‘em? Picked them out myself. Merlin said these guys go for easy prey. What’s easier than desperate and drunk?” He plucked at the fabric that was stretched tight across his chest, oblivious to Harry’s silent feud with Merlin. He brought their attention back to him as he asked, “So what’s Harry’s angle?”

Merlin cleared his throat, “Harrys speaks French fluently. He’ll be playing the part of a wealthy Parisian trick, and you, Eggsy, will be trying to pick him up. You don’t need to be heard by anyone other than Harry, so stay close and your lack of French won’t matter.” Eggsy grinned. Harry grimaced.

He caught Merlin’s arm while Eggsy was distracted by his phone ringing and hissed, “What makes you so sure they’ll take the bait?”

Merlin gave him a pointed look and dropped his head down to whisper crassly in Harry’s ear, “Wouldn’t you?” Leering at Harry’s dumfounded expression, Merlin stalked back to the cabin and called for Eggsy and Harry to buckle up.

Harry fumbled with his belt as he considered Merlin’s words.

_Yes. Yes he would._

Harry spent the rest of the flight ignoring Merlin out of spite. He wasn’t aware that Eggsy had picked up on it until they were safely in a taxi on route to their drop off point. “What’s up with you and Merlin, having a fight or something?” 

“He’s interfering again,” grumbled Harry, “I don’t like it when he interferes.” Eggsy was about to ask what exactly it was Merlin was interfering with when taxi came to a halt. No sooner had the engine cut was Harry out of his seat and pulling Eggsy’s door open for him. They were standing in a dank alleyway, and somewhere not too far away Eggsy could hear music.

“We’re going to a gentleman’s club with some very exclusive clientele. Here,” he handed Eggsy a silver card with bold, gold lettering printed across it. 

“It’s in French, can’t read it.”

“Let’s just refer to it as your calling card for now. Hand it to the doorman when you get there and you won’t have to say a word.”

Eggsy was dubious, “Can’t I just go in with you? I don’t think they’d let me in a posh place dressed like this.”

Harry snorted. “You may have picked the clothes, but Kingsman paid for them. The jeans you’re wearing – if that scrap of fabric can even be called that – are worth just under a grand, and that black monstrosity isn’t much cheaper. You look like trash, but expensive trash.”

Eggsy blinked, “Thanks, I think.”

Harry rolled his eyes as they came to the end of the alleyway. Satisfied that no one could see them, he turned to Eggsy and clasped his shoulder, trying very hard to ignore how warm it felt in the cold evening air. 

“You enter at eight, with any luck we’ll have fished them out by nine. Come straight to the bar, I’ll be there. Make a show of handing me your card. Don’t speak to anyone else, don’t look at anyone else. Understand?”

Eggsy heaved a sigh as he nodded, “Yes, Harry. I got it. Now go, else you’ll be late again.” He winked.

Harry’s mouth twitched as he headed in the direction of the club, praying to anyone that was listening that they’d give him the strength to make it through the night.

Eggsy kept glancing nervously at his watch.

_7.53. Was I supposed to be there at eight or just start walking?_

Deciding that he’d rather be on time – and he knew Harry was already there so it didn’t matter if he was a few minutes early – Eggsy began to make his way to the club Merlin had pointed out to him. He felt naked without his glasses, but he had to do without.

_Just stick close to Harry. Harry’ll have your back._

He found the club tucked in the corner of a brightly lit square. It didn’t seem like anything untoward – in fact, if it weren’t for the men guarding the door, Eggsy thought it would look like any normal restaurant. He could see people dining inside, laughing and drinking. He swallowed nervously and took a deep breath to calm himself.

_Harry’s here, it’ll be fine._

Eggsy approached the hulking doorman and glanced up at him through his eyelashes, handing him the little card. The man’s eyes raked his body up and down before he nodded with a smirk and allowed Eggsy to pass. Once inside he glanced around, making sure not to look straight at Harry. He saw him, leaning against the bar, from the corner of his eye, before noticing that there was a white haired gentleman across the room who couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off Eggsy.

_Might as well give him something to chase._

With an impish grin Eggsy sauntered over to the elderly man, making sure to flick his hips out as he walked. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him. Almost immediately the man was fawning over him, murmuring what could have been poetry for all Eggsy knew. Eggsy kept his mouth shut, smiling and flushing and fluttering his eyelashes. 

_Rox would be so fucking proud._

He turned away to laugh as something that was apparently funny and caught Harry staring at him. His mouth went dry.

_When had Harry changed?_

The man leaning against the bar was the most gorgeous Eggsy had ever seen. Harry had gotten rid of his suit – not that Eggsy minded the suit, quite the opposite actually – and was wearing what was clearly a pair of very expensive black slacks. His crisp, white shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows – the bruises faded now. He wasn’t wearing a tie, instead his collar was undone to the third button, exposing a throat Eggsy so desperately wanted to pepper with kisses, or bite - he really couldn’t decide which he’d prefer. He wore no jacket; in its place was a waistcoat like Eggsy had never seen before – grey and black silk brocade with bold, brass buttons. Harry wasn’t wearing his glasses, they were tucked into his waistcoat pocket, and his dark eyes were boring into Eggsy as the younger man sheepishly made his way to the bar.

_He was perfect._

Harry seemed to have gotten over his little fit as Eggsy came to stand beside him, tapping the bar and holding up two fingers to the man behind it. He flashed Eggsy a winning smile and leaned in to whisper in his ear with an irritated hiss that did not match the expression on his face, “What on earth was that?” 

Eggsy turned to playfully ghost his lips across Harry’s ear, “Gotta play the room, mate. That’s how these things work.” He pulled back in time to catch the flash of exasperation in his partner’s eyes before their drinks arrived. Eggsy eyed the glass and brought it to his lips.

_Whiskey. Well this is already a terrible idea._

They sipped their drinks and Eggsy remembered the card in his pocket. Making sure to catch the gold letting in the light, he pressed the slip of paper into Harry’s hand, allowing his fingers to trail across his palm as he pulled back. Harry made a show of considering the card in his hands before slipping it in to his own pocket. As he glanced over Eggsy’s shoulder he noted quite a few disappointed faces in the room. 

Schooling his face into a practised smile, Harry waited for the barman to come closer before announcing, “Vous êtes un très beau jeune homme.” He watched the soft lamp light play across Eggsy’s confused face, “Je pense que je vais garder ceci".” 

When he suddenly remembered that the younger man hadn’t the faintest idea what he was saying, Harry had an unusually wicked thought.

_If he’s going to dress like that, then I might as well have some fun with it._

Making sure that they were still being watched he brought his hand up to cup Eggsy’s jaw. The man in front of him stiffened, but trusted that Harry knew what he was doing. Harry stroked his thumb across the younger man’s cheekbone, “Vous avec un si beau visage, de si jolis yeux.” He brought Eggsy’s face close to his and traced the tip of his nose along the boy’s exposed neck, his lips coming to rest at Eggsy’s ear. “J'ai des rêves si coupables sur cette belle bouche que vous avez.”

_This wasn’t playing anymore, this was getting dangerous._

Eggsy wasn’t sure what Harry was saying, but he’d give his left arm to hear him say more of it. Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe it was Harry’s voice – as rich and intoxicating as the whiskey itself – as he whispered in Eggsy’s ear, but Eggsy couldn’t help himself pressing closer to Harry’s body.

To everyone around them they were playing their part beautifully.

As Harry was considering just how terrible he was for taking advantage of Eggsy’s unfamiliarity with the language he was speaking, he noticed two men enter the club through the back door. Their eyes immediately came to rest on Eggsy. 

_Right. Here we go._

He brushed his lips against Eggsy’s ear once more, “The two by the door.” Eggsy gave an almost imperceptible nod and began to move towards the bathroom, making sure to teasingly trace his fingers along Harry’s bicep. The two men watched as the younger man pretended to sway on his feet. Harry reached into his pocket and put on his glasses as her paid the barman. Merlin’s voice was steady through the feed, “Remember, let yourself be taken. We can’t do anything unless we find where they’re hiding. I sent out an anonymous tip off, so they know who you are but not Galahad, they’ll take you both though.”

Harry made his way towards the bathroom.

“They’re following, good. Kay’s transmissions indicate that there are only five of them. They aren’t very well trained, either. They were using Kay to teach themselves, so they’ll probably know about our weapons, but they won’t know anything about your buttons or Galahad’s boots.”

_Boots? What about the boots?_

“They’ll probably break the glasses, but I’ve got a new pair waiting for you. Identical, of course – I know how attached you are to the colour.”

Harry entered the bathroom to find Eggsy sitting with his legs splayed open on the counter top. He walked forward into the space between Eggsy’s legs and pulled the younger man to him, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his vest up. 

“They’re behind me,” he hissed.

Eggsy nodded sharply and quickly went to work unbuttoning Harry’s waistcoat and shirt, sliding his hands underneath them and gripping Harry’s back. He tried to ignore how good those hands felt on him. 

He heard the outer door to the bathroom creak open and thrust his face into Eggsy’s neck, biting down and making the younger man cry out in surprise. So absorbed was he in the feeling of his lips pressed against Eggsy’s throat, that he was barely aware of the sting of the needle as it was jabbed into the back of his neck. 

Eggsy awoke to find himself bound to concrete pillar on a dusty floor. What little light came through the boarded up windows was enough to tell that whoever had tied the ropes had no idea what they were doing. He listened carefully for any movement around him, but all he could hear was the sound of someone else’s breathing.

_Harry._

Eggsy untied himself and peered around the room for the older man. He heard a weak cough coming from the other side of the pillar, “Is it just me, or are terrorists becoming shoddy these days?” 

Harry was struggling with the ropes around his wrists when Eggsy appeared beside him. He squinted at Harry’s head, finding a small trickle of blood running down the side of his neck. His stomach lurched before he remembered that the older man had slumped forward and knocked his head on a sink when he was drugged.

Satisfied that Harry wasn’t in any danger, Eggsy helped him untie the remaining ropes before pulling the man to his feet. Harry swayed unsteadily, eyes still adjusting to the dark. Merlin was right, they’d taken his glasses and the other weapons, but hadn’t touched his waistcoat or Eggsy’s shoes.

_Time to go to work._

They were standing in a small room, at the end of which, they could just about see a door. The two men made their way across the room and – once they were certain no one was waiting for them – through the door and down a flight of wooden steps. They found themselves in a cavernous warehouse, the high windows on each side boarded up, the doors bolted shut.

Harry pulled Eggsy to crouch underneath the stairs as he heard someone approach. Bringing his finger to his lips, he motioned for Eggsy to follow him as he crawled for the cover of a large, wooden crate. Once safely tucked behind it he peered over the edge, only to dart back down again as the lights flashed on above their heads. They were tucked in the corner of the vast room, empty save for a collection of spare computer parts littering the floor and a collection of tables in the centre. Harry counted three men hunched over one of the tables, soldering away at something small that one of them was holding.

_Where are the other two?_

He heard floorboards creak above them and two sets of footsteps approaching the spot where he and Eggsy had been tied. He crouched back down to face Eggsy, who had removed his shoes and was prying the sole off one of them with his finger nails. It came away easily enough to reveal a set of small throwing knives, and Harry sent a silent prayer of thanks to Merlin for remembering.

“Think these are for you,” Eggsy whispered.

Harry took them and nodded his thanks, listening as the footsteps above them stopped. There was a murmur of confusion before one of the men cried out, catching the attention of the other three.

Harry grinned, having removed the buttons of his waistcoat and – using the little metal loop – unscrewed the back of them. He carefully handed them to Eggsy as the men around them started shouting in panic.

“Throw them if you need to,” Harry instructed.

“Grenades?” grinned Eggsy.

“Grenades.”

With that Harry leapt over the cover of their crate and charged at the three unsuspecting men. Eggsy had never seen anyone move like Harry moved. Quick as lightening, his hands flashing in a fluffy of movement, he had taken all three of them out with a strategically aimed knife to the throat, all before any of them had time to raise their guns. 

Eggsy’s head shot up as he heard the other two throwing themselves down the stairs, but before he even had the chance to stand upright, Harry had retrieved his knives and buried them in both of men’s skulls. He dusted down his waistcoat and called Eggsy over to the tables. 

“Is this it?”

Eggsy peered over Harry’s shoulder at the scattered pieces of broken wiring, the chips didn’t even remotely resemble Valentine’s, being far too big to fit inside anyone’s head. He picked one up and studied the length of wiring.

Harry’s voice startled him, “It’s not like Valentine’s, it’s a collar. The two end connect together, see?” He touched the end of the wire to the small chip and a surge of blue light – as well as the accompanying shock - startled Eggsy enough to drop it. 

Harry swept the laptop and broken components off the table and into a nearby bag, before handing Eggsy one of the dead men’s discarded guns and sending him off to search the rest of the warehouse. 

He was just leafing through the terrorists’ notes when Eggsy returned, shaking his head. “There’s only three rooms here; the one we were tied up in, this one and one down the hall. There’s nothing in any of them.”

“Very well, what about those crates?” Eggsy examined the wooden boxes in front of him, “More computer bits and wiring. Should we take them?” 

“Don’t bother,” Harry said, slipping folders of notes into the bag slung over his shoulder, “without these all of its useless.”

They left the warehouse and hurried to Merlin's meeting point, relieved to find their taxi waiting for them. Eggsy sat slumped in the backseat, suddenly exhausted despite the ease of their mission. “I guess Merlin was right, all the serious terrorists must have off’d each other during V-day,” he joked.

Harry grunted, “A fact we can only be grateful for.”

_Someone’s in a foul mood._

Harry’s mood was not improved by the discovery that waited them at their hotel. They deposited their bags with the porter, Harry insisting that he could carry the laptop bad – and how surreal was it that they just waltzed into a fancy hotel, covered in dirt, holding information that could have been used the enslave the human race. The porter showed them to their room. 

That was the first problem. Only one room.

Harry’s eye twitched but he refrained from commenting, assuming Merlin thought it would be funny to subject him to sleeping in the same room as Eggsy.

The porter unlocked their door and handed them a key. As Eggsy pushed it open problem number two became painfully apparent. Only one bed. 

_Looks comfy enough._

Beside him Harry was seething. He noticed the pair of glasses laid out on the bed and, briskly thanking the porter and all but snatching their bags from him, he snapped the door shut and strode across the room to pull them on.

“What have you done?”

He could hear that smug smile in Merlin’s voice, “Only room I could get, I’m afraid. This is a popular spot for romantic city breaks, after all. You’ll just have to make do.” With that the feed went silent and Harry threw the glasses onto the bed again. Refusing to look at Eggsy, he gathered up a towel and his toiletry bag and stalked to the bathroom, declaring that he was taking a shower.

Eggsy lowered himself onto the plush bed, running his fingers over the sheets as he heard the shower whirring to life. He sighed. 

_Really not a good time to do this._

He thought back to the weeks he had spent feeling on edge in the older man’s presence, constantly afraid that he would slip up and do something to make Harry uncomfortable. It was the last thing he wanted to do. He remembered their stilted conversations and the unreadable looks that Harry had been giving him. Eggsy assumed it was because he had changed his mind, was too bloody polite to say so. For all that he made a living out of kicking arse, Harry Hart would do anything to avoid confrontation with Eggsy.

_Maybe I should just leave it._

He turned his head to look at the glasses lying on the sheets, losing himself in the memory of the conversation he’d had with merlin. 

_“You have to push him.”_

_“Harry isn’t used to being wanted.”_

Closing his eyes he pictured Harry on the nights he’d held him, rocking him slowly back and forth. He remembered lowering his face and burying it in Harry’s hair, pressing his lips to the man’s forehead in chaste kisses. He remembered the feeling of Harry’s thumb pressing against his lips that night in the living room, the night he’d ruined everything. He remembered the feeling of having Harry pressed against him in the bathroom of that club, his nails digging into Harry’s back and relishing in the warmth radiating off the older man as he bit down on Eggsy’s neck. 

Raising a hand to touch the mark he knew would be there Eggsy smiled. He made up his mind as he heard the sound of the shower turning off.

_Great, now how the fuck am I supposed to do this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Harry's saying to Eggsy (I do speak passable french but got some help from a friend who I'm assuming is right, and boy wasn't that a weird conversation...):
> 
> "You certainly are a handsome young man, I think I'll keep that."  
> "You have such a pretty face, such pretty eyes."  
> "I have such sinful dreams about that beautiful mouth of yours."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before he knew it, he was gripping the rim of the sink and struggling to breathe as a moment of absolute clarity dawned upon him.
> 
> Eggsy still wanted him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mkay so believe it or not, this was cut down considerably into two chapters because once again i struggle to end things this bodes well for the future of this fic. 
> 
> ps arrested!au will be up at some point later today or tomorrow.

Harry felt guilty for abandoning Eggsy in the other room, but heaven help him he needed space to _breathe_. He was going to kill Merlin for this.

_How could the man be so bloody inconsiderate?_

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, Harry felt betrayed. He had trusted Merlin, he had gone to him willingly and had admitted his feelings in the confidence that the man he thought was his friend respected him enough to take his feelings seriously. It was now painfully apparent that Merlin thought that these feelings would make the brunt of a good joke. The man had always had a darker sense of humour than Harry, but Harry never thought he would be willing to go so far for a laugh.

He washed and dried himself mechanically, lost in the ache in his chest and taking far too long in the bathroom in order to avoid having to face the younger man in the next room. He realised with a jolt in his stomach that Eggsy may well have guessed that Merlin was playing a trick on them, and what would naturally follow would be the boy’s realisation that the trick was the result of Harry still having inappropriate feelings for him.

 _For God’s sake Hart, the boy’s not as observant as all that,_ he rationalised. 

_Oh, isn’t he? You haven’t made any effort to hide your affection for him._

He glanced at his defeated reflection in the ornate, full-length mirror, and dropped his towel.

_Look at yourself._

What he saw was an aging fool. Too grey at the temples, the chestnut receding further and further as the years wore him down. He examined the lines and wrinkles marking his face, his eyes drawn to heinous scar that disappeared into his hairline. He was tall, but he wasn’t as fit or lithe as he had once been; his stomach was starting to sag and he was losing the definition he once had. 

_Too old. Too grey._

Eggsy, on the other hand, was beautiful. A veritable Adonis. He could have anyone his heart desired; Harry saw enough evidence of that in the eyes that followed Eggsy as he walked in the street. They’d look at Harry only after they’d torn their gaze from Eggsy, and wonder.

_What is he doing with a man like that?_

But the traitorous little voice in his head dared him to hope. _He kissed you. He wanted you._

It was true, if only for a moment. Eggsy had been the one to kiss him, the one to seek him out.

_He kissed me._

A terrifying thought struck Harry as he stared at his wide-eyed reflection.

_What if he still wants to?_

He considered their situation. Merlin wasn’t that cruel, he was like a brother to Harry, and he cared deeply for Eggsy, for the both of them. He wouldn’t inflict this sort of discomfort unless he was certain of the outcome. 

_Unless he knew something._

All at once a rush of memories came flooding back to Harry. Eggsy smiling at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. Eggsy watching him lick his fingers clean after a particularly messy dinner of canned hotdogs that everyone else seemed to find delicious. Eggsy holding him when he clawed his way out of the darkness of his dreams, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks and forehead. Eggsy choosing those ghastly inappropriate clothes when he knew he was going to be wearing them in front of Harry, for Harry.

Merlin’s knowing leer as he told him he’d already booked them a room. 

Eggsy’s hands clawing at his back in the bathroom, the way his legs slipped open _oh_ so willingly and without any hesitation. 

Before he knew it, he was gripping the rim of the sink and struggling to breathe as a moment of absolute clarity dawned upon him.

_Eggsy still wanted him._

The thought both terrified him and gave him the courage to retrieve the robe hanging on the peg by the door. Taking a deep breath he turned the handle and entered the bedroom, only to find Eggsy nervously fiddling with his hands as he perched on the edge of the bed.

_Adorable._

As Harry was warring with himself in the bathroom, Eggsy was having a similar altercation with his own conscience. He was so deeply engaged in this struggle that he didn’t notice Harry approaching him until the older man was directly beside him, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder.

Eggsy started and jumped up from the bed. “Sorry, Harry. What did you say?”

“Nothing yet. Would you like a drink?”

_If he was doing this he’d need alcohol._

“No thanks.”

_If he was doing this he was doing it sober._

Eggsy watched Harry approach the sideboard and open a crystal decanter full of amber liquid. He listened to the sound of Harry pouring himself a drink and inhaled the scent of the older man’s shampoo as it drifted across the room.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll take the sofa thing,” he pointed to the chaise longue in the middle of the room. “There’s only one bed and I can deal with it for one night and then we can go down to the desk in the morning and complain, or get another hotel – I mean, I’m sure there’s loads round ‘ere, and anyway you shouldn’t be on it with your back – not that I’m saying you’re old or nothin’ – it’s just I know how you get if you fall asleep in your chair and-”

His embarrassing rant was thankfully cut short by the sound of Harry’s rich laughter coming from the other side of the room. 

Flustered, Eggsy refused to look at the man, instead shoving his hands deep into the tight pockets of his jeans and hunching his shoulders.

_Way to fucking go._

He was completely unaware of Harry’s movements behind him.

Draining the rest of his scotch for courage and making sure Eggsy had his back turned, Harry slipped off his robe and quietly arranged himself on the bed, wearing nothing but a smirk to mask the impulse to cover himself with his hands. 

“What if I want to share?”

Eggsy’s brow furrowed as he turned back to face Harry, but the question died on his lips as he noticed the white robe pooled on the floor. His gaze moved to the bed. Harry was lying amidst a ridiculous amount of pillows, ankles crossed and fresh glass of scotch in hand. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and Eggsy could feel his face flushing as Harry stared at him with those beautiful, big, brown eyes. He wasn’t wearing anything else either, and Eggsy’s mouth went dry as his took in the sight of Harry Hart splayed naked on the sheets before him. He swallowed. 

“Are you sure you know what you’re asking?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”

Eggsy nodded. Before his brain could process what his mouth was saying he’d blurted, “So, how we doin’ this then? You fuck me, or I fuck you?”

Harry blinked, slowly. “You really couldn’t find a more romantic way of phrasing that, could you?” he scoffed.

Eggsy was still having difficulty finding the words, forcing his eyes to focus on Harry’s face and not wander further downwards. Harry noticed as his smirk widened. “Well,” he coughed and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, “that is what we’re gonna do, right? Fuck?”

Harry’s face softened. He placed his glass on the nearby table and shifted forward onto his knees as he reached out for the younger man. Eggsy shuffled towards the bed, nervously placing his hand in Harry’s, only to find himself being pulled down to join him. He crouched on his hands and knees above Harry, staring at him in shock. Harry reached up, and lovingly traced the lines of Eggsy’s cheekbones, moving his hand round to cradle the back of Eggsy’s head and bringing his face a hairsbreadth from Harry’s. Eggsy’s slowly lowered his face and brought his lips to Harry’s, his tongue slipping between them to taste the older man. 

_Finally._

Eggsy rejoiced in the sensation of losing himself to Harry’s skilled tongue. Their breath mingled, hot and wet, and they pulled back, panting.

“Yes,” Harry breathed gently, “We are most certainly going to fuck.”

Any response Eggsy could have had was muffled by Harry dragging him down for another passionate kiss. This time as he withdrew he noticed the dangerous glint in the older man’s eyes. “Can I be selfish?” Harry asked, coyly and with a sense of bravado hitherto undiscovered. 

“You can be anything you want, babe” Eggsy breathed. 

_What’s that smile about?_

That infuriating twitch at the corner of Harry’s mouth was back, but instead of being irritated by it he found himself to be incredibly turned on. He allowed Harry to pull him flush against his naked chest. 

“You’ll permit me a request, then?” 

Turning his head to the side as Harry’s lips pressed against his ear, he nodded shakily. Harry dragged his teeth along Eggsy’s neck and back up, the younger man’s surprised gasp almost drowning out the whisper Eggsy never dreamed he would hear.

“Fuck me.”

_Fuck yes._

Eggsy had never shed his clothes so quickly before, and Harry was resolutely trying not to laugh as the younger man struggled out of his ridiculous jeans, so caught up in the moment that he forgot to remove his shoes and got them tangled around his ankles.

Harry swallowed his laughter with a cough and moved to assist him.

“No, you stay there. I got this.”

Harry blinked, unexpectedly aroused by the command. Sipping his drink to hide his surprise he leaned casually back into the pillows, “Alright.”

Eggsy glanced up from his battle with his laces at the uneven tone in Harry’s voice, and found that a rather attractive flush that certainly wasn’t caused by the alcohol had spread across Harry’s cheeks and down his neck.

_What in the – oh. Oh._

Eggsy grinned as he finally rid himself of his boots and stood before Harry, clad only his uncomfortably tight boxers, thankful that he hadn’t thrown on a holey pair that morning. Encouraged by the fact that Harry couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off Eggsy’s lower half, the younger man hooked both thumbs under the waistband of his underwear and slowly pulled them over his hips and down his thighs, kicking them away when the dropped past his knees and to the floor.

He watched Harry’s throat bob in a nervous swallow as Eggsy stalked towards the bed, and the older man shifted further down the sheets to lie flat on his back.

As Eggsy crawled towards him he considered everything he could do to wreck the older man, before settling on the one thing he had been craving since he saw Harry’s open collar in the club. 

Beginning at Harry’s collar bone, he ran his tongue along the expanse of Harry’s throat, gently nipping and kissing the skin until he reached the base again and latched his mouth onto the juncture between Harry’s throat and shoulder.

In response, Harry drew his legs up towards his body, giving Eggsy the opportunity to slide his hands underneath him and grasp two handfuls of his perfectly sculpted arse. He squeezed so hard he was sure he’d leave bruises in the shape of his fingernails – but, judging by the surprisingly high-pitched keen that slipped past Harry’s lips, he doubted there was much complaint. 

Taking this as encouragement Eggsy fully lowered his body flush against Harry’s, relishing the twitch his cock gave as it met Harry’s fevered skin and the similar response he felt against his own thigh. He traced his fingertips along Harry’s body as he made his mark on the man’s throat, smiling as he felt Harry’s startled laugh when he reached his hips.

_Ticklish, then._

Mindful of his new discovery, Eggsy dragged his fingernails down Harry’s legs and – satisfied that there would be an impressive bruise marking Harry’s throat in the morning – tilted his head back up to capture Harry’s mouth. His hands wandered lower, brushing against Harry’s cleft as the older man drew back. “Do you have anything?”

Eggsy nodded, embarrassed and went to retrieve a bottle from his bag. He turned to face Harry again, finding the older man propped up on his elbows and regarding him with a raised brow and a knowing grin.

_Cheeky bastard._

Eggsy coughed to hide his embarrassment, “You know me, always prepared.” Harry smiled indulgently and held his hand out to the younger man, pulling him back to crouch above him.

Eggsy’s hands trembled as he struggled to open the bottle of lubricant, and one of Harry’s instantly reached out to steady him, to reassure him. Nothing was said, but Eggsy nodded anyway, aware of Harry’s message.

_Don’t be nervous._

Spreading the silky liquid on his fingers, Eggsy watched Harry’s face as he gently pressed at and teased his entrance, lost in pleasure as the younger man carefully eased his finger inside. Eggsy gave in to his sudden desire to kiss Harry, surging up to meet the older man and nipping at his bottom lip lightly with his teeth.

As Harry’s eyes drifted down to watch Eggsy’s fingers work him open, Eggsy - feeling brave - took Harry’s chin in hand. “Don’t look down, keep your eyes on me, love.”

_Love. There, he’d said it._

Harry’s eyes filled with wonder and he laughed in a way that sounded almost like a sob to Eggsy. “Love?” he repeated breathlessly, as though he couldn’t quite believe that the word was meant for him.

“Love,” Eggsy firmly reassured, and Harry's answering smile was blinding. He withdrew his fingers and positioned himself at Harry’s entrance.

He swallowed. “Ready?” A little nod. As Eggsy started to push past the tight ring of muscle, Harry’s eyes began to slip closed in pleasure. 

“Harry, keep your eyes on me yeah?”

He gazed into those warm, brown orbs as he fully sheathed himself inside Harry. Once he felt his balls touch the sweet curve of Harry’s arse he took a shaky breath and forced himself not to plunge in and out of the overwhelmingly tight heat.

“You can look now, babe.”

Harry lowered his gaze and let out a breathy moan at the sight of himself speared on his younger lover’s cock, licking his lips, chest heaving as he gasped for air.

_He thought it was the most perfectly right thing he’d ever seen. And felt._

Eggsy had imagined their first time together at least a hundred times over, but not once had he envisioned himself biting his lip, eyes wide in awe – glued to the point where he was buried balls deep in Harry’s lube-slicked hole. He never dreamed it would be Harry’s face gazing up at him in wonder as he leaned forwards to bracket the older man in his arms. He was sure it would be his own breath that caught – and not Harry’s – as he was stretched wide and filled. 

Eggsy allowed himself a moment to close his eyes and memorise the feeling of being so deep in Harry, his inner walls hot and fluttering around Eggsy. He opened them to find Harry doing more or less the same thing, taking extra care to catalogue every tiny sensation of being filled by Eggsy in a manner only Harry would.

Brown eyes met blue, pupils blown wide and pleading for him to move his hips. Eggsy slowly bent his head and touched their lips together in the tenderest of kisses, slowly sliding his tongue along Harry’s and swallowing the little mule the older man gave as Eggsy gently withdrew, before snapping his hips down and driving his length back into Harry.

_The answering moan was a sound that Eggsy would remember for the rest of his life._

“Never thought I’d see you like this,” Eggsy mused later, playing with a lock of Harry’s damp hair as he lay pillowed on the older man’s chest. “I mean, you were fuckin’ hot while we were at it, but you’re bloody gorgeous like this.”

He tilted his head to look at Harry, relishing the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Like what?”

Eggsy shrugged. “All…wobbly.” He tried not to laugh at Harry’s delicate sniff, “Well, take that as a compliment.” Eggsy smiled and pressed his face back into Harry’s soft skin, inhaling deeply the scent of sex, sweat and something uniquely Harry.

 _Cinnamon and whiskey_ , thought Eggsy absently.

Without looking at Harry he began dragging his fingernails through the coarse hair in front of his face, “So, is that how this is going to work? Because I won’t lie, I never pictured it happening like that.” He felt Harry absentmindedly run his fingers along the base of his scalp, practically purring with contentment.

“And how exactly did you picture it?” There was something strange in the tone of Harry’s voice that forced Eggsy to look up at him, and something strange in the expression on his face to match.

“No matter where or when we did it, you were always the one fucking me. But is this how we’re going to do it? Not that I’m complaining, mind, you’ve got a really nice bum.” Harry’s face relaxed as he winked and shifted his arms and gave said bum a flirtatious little pinch. 

Eggsy watched the mischievous glint return to Harry’s eyes as he smirked, “Even better than Princess Tilde’s?” 

He stiffened. Of course Merlin showed him the whole bloody thing.

Recovering quickly he cushioned his face in both hands and flashed a devilish grin at Harry, “Miles better. Don’t need Scandinavian royalty anymore, not now I’ve got my own princess right here.”

Harry’s right eye twitched as his left brow rose. “The sentiment is much appreciated, but don’t for one second think that I’m going to let you get away with calling me Princess. You can wipe that smug little grin off your face right now, Gary Unwin, and go and fetch a cloth to clean this mess.” 

Rising from the bed and swiftly jumping back to avoid Harry’s playful swat, Eggsy dropped into a sarcastic curtsey. “Anything for my princess.”

“Fuck off, Darling.”

_And there it was, the word that made Eggsy’s knees weak._

He returned from the bathroom to find Harry rising to his feet, delighting in the twinge of protest his lower half gave. He had only taken a few steps away from the bed when the sound of Eggsy’s voice stopped him.

“Stop.” 

Harry was about to turn and frown at him when Eggsy spoke again. “Just, please, don’t move. I want to look at you.” Overcome by a peculiar mix of embarrassment and pleasure, Harry allowed him to stare.

Eggsy sat on the edge of the bed, memorising every curve and dip of Harry’s back. The normally creamy skin was still flushed and damp with a light sheen of sweat. His eyes traced the line of Harry’s strong, square shoulders and down to the point at which his back merged with his tapered waist. 

_Sweet lord have mercy, even his back has dimples._

Eggsy followed the span of Harry’s impossibly long legs and darted back up to enjoy the sight of the positively flawless arse he’d just been buried in, noting with pleasure the crescent-shaped indents his fingernails had left behind.

His eyes glanced up to find Harry starting intently at him over his shoulder, his profile framed by sex-mussed hair. Eggsy took his time in admiring the strong jaw and long nose, settling his gaze on Harry’s dark eyes as he cleared his throat. “Turn around?”

The other man huffed, “Oh you are not making me do this.”

“Please?”

Harry obliged, feeling only slightly awkward. When he was sure Eggsy had finished his thorough inspection, Harry made to approach the door again, only to be stopped once more by the sound of Eggsy’s voice.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re adorable?”

“Adorable is not a word anyone has ever associated with me.” At Harry’s dry answer, Eggsy realised he had spoken aloud. Recovering quickly, he grinned. “That’s ‘cause they weren’t looking hard enough.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, frowning curiously. “And how have you come to this conclusion?”

Eggsy shrugged, “Look at you now. Your eyes are all sleepy, your hair’s fucking weird and your nose gets this little crinkle when you think. ‘S cute.” 

Harry made his way back to the bed and bent to fondly trace his fingertips over Eggsy’s cheekbone as he spoke. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

Eggsy gave a little lopsided smile, “Yeah, but not the kind of people I liked to hear say it.”

Harry frowned. “Do you not want me to then?”

Shaking his head, Eggsy brought Harry’s hand to his lips and tenderly kissed his knuckles. “I like it when you say it, it means something.”

Harry bent low and reverently touched his lips to Eggsy’s as he whispered, “Then I’ll never stop saying it.”

He straightened and turned to glance at the door. “Now, if I don’t hand that sign outside I think we may give housekeeping a bit of a shock.”

Eggsy’s twinkling laughter followed him across the room as he cracked open the door and slipped a white piece of plastic onto the handle. Once he was sure they wouldn’t be disturbed he made his way back to the bed and lay down next to his younger lover. He stifled a yawn and was suddenly struck by how tired he actually was, and – judging by the way the younger man had made himself very comfortable across Harry’s midsection – he imagined that Eggsy felt the same.

He touched his lips to the boy’s forehead and reached across to turn the lamp off, surprised that his mouth met with Eggsy’s in the darkness when he turned back. 

“G’night, Harry.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around the younger man. “Goodnight, Darling.”

Eggsy fell asleep with a smile on his lips and awoke to the sound of birds chirping through the open window. 

He brought his arm up to shield his face from the blinding light and rolled over with the intention of going back to sleep. Or, at least, he would have rolled over had he not been trapped against someone’s chest. Shifting his bleary eyes upwards he decided there and then that no morning could ever be a good one unless he woke up to Harry’s loving gaze.

“How long you been up?” Eggsy sighed, happily stretching out his arms and burrowing his face back into the warmth of Harry’s skin.

“Not long.”

“Were you watching me sleep?”

“Yes.”

Taken aback by Harry’s honesty he glanced up and smiled at the older man, but before he could question the grin on Harry’s face, Eggsy found himself flipped onto his back with Harry poised above him, peppering his neck with gentle kisses. 

Eggsy’s cock gave an interested twitch as he felt Harry, stiff and warm, brush against his side. Harry’s mouth was suddenly on his, kissing him tenderly. He pulled back as quickly as he had come and dipped his head below the sheets, shuffling further down the bed.

“Haven’t brushed me teeth, Harry,” Eggsy laughed.

“Don’t care,” came Harry’s muffled voice from somewhere beneath the blankets.

_Daft bugger._

His affectionate laughter was cut short by the sensation of Harry licking a stripe along the inside of his thigh. Eggsy grunted and pressed his head back into the pillows before reaching down and trying to pull back the blankets, only to discover that Harry was gripping them tightly over his own head.

“The fuck you doin’?” is what he would have asked, had his question not been interrupted by his own breathy moan as Harry took him into his mouth and swallowed.

_Because of course Harry fucking Hart could take him in one go._

The room was filled with Eggsy’s quiet moans and frustrated huffs as Harry licked and teased and gently sucked, bringing him to the brink before pulling back and sucking another little bruise into the skin of his thigh, all the while working Eggsy open with his fingers. Within minutes Eggsy was reduced to a sobbing mess, unashamedly begging for Harry to do something. 

The blankets shifted and Harry’s face appeared from beneath them. He threw the sheets back and reached under the pillow to retrieve the little bottle they had left there the night before.

Eggsy barely registered Harry asking for permission, instead he dug his nails into Harry’s hips and snarled, “If you don’t fucking fuck me right now I’ll fucking kill you!”

 _Bugger it_ , he thought as Harry smirked and tutted, “Language, Eggsy.” _I’ll kill him anyway. Later. After._

Thankfully Harry distracted him from all thoughts of murder as he gently pushed himself inside the younger man in one long, hot stroke. He gave a few experimental thrusts, thoroughly enjoying the soft whines coming from his partner, before grinning wildly and pulling Eggsy to his chest. He flipped them around again so that Eggsy sat speared on his cock.

“Ride me.”

_Eggsy had never been so eager to follow a command._

Planting his hands on Harry’s stomach, he lifted his body up and lowered himself back down, mewling at the delicious burn as he began to fuck himself on Harry’s cock in earnest. His head jerked up as he felt the older man groan beneath him, their eyes locked as a sheen of sweat began to bead Eggsy’s brow.

Harry’s strong hands grasped at his hips as he raised his legs and to prop Eggsy up, the change in angle sending a sudden spark and shiver down Eggsy’s spine as he gave a long and low keen.

_He’d never made that noise before._

The sky outside was fading from pink to a clear, crisp blue as the two men lost themselves in one another, alternating between desperate kisses and whispered confessions. Harry gripped his waist and came inside Eggsy with a low grunt of ,’Fuck,’ that was partially muffled by the younger man’s neck, but he didn’t slow his pace as he jerked Eggsy to completion.

Eggsy came hard over Harry’s stomach, slumping forward to lay his head on Harry’s chest and hissing as he felt the older man pulling out. He could feel Harry’s heat beating rapidly against his cheek. He sensed Harry stretch his arm out and glanced to the side, just in time to see Harry fiddling with his glasses.

Eggsy snorted and nuzzled his face against the salt and pepper hair dusting Harry’s chest. “Were those recording? You dirty bugger.”

He felt Harry laugh, “Of course not. They were transmitting.” Eggsy stiffened and sat upright. “Transmitting? As in…to HQ?” Harry nodded, lifting himself on to his elbows and watching Eggsy carefully. Eggsy smirked. “Merlin?”

Harry let his head drop back against the pillows again, satisfied that Eggsy wasn’t upset with him.

_He had a feeling he wouldn’t mind._

“Come now, Eggsy. We’ve just fallen for the oldest trick in the book.” He dropped his voice to imitate the gruff concierge, “‘I’m sorry, Sir, but there’s only one room available.’ And it just so happened that that one room only had one bed.”

Eggsy’s mind began to click things into place, “You think Merlin was behind it?”

Harry sniffed indignantly, “Of course he was, in fact – I wouldn’t be surprised if Miss Roxanne was involved as well.”

Eggsy smiles as he shifted further down into the bed and draped himself over Harry’s chest again, tucking his head under the older man’s chin. He felt Harry’s hand cup his jaw and tilt his face up to look at him, muttering an irritated, “If the man was so intent on getting us together then he can bloody well watch the results,” before pressing his lips to Eggsy’s in a languid kiss.

If Eggsy’s mouth hadn’t been otherwise engaged, he would have laughed.

_Who knew his Harry was a closet exhibitionist._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pps; I put chapter prompts on my phone to remind me where this is going and i thought i'd just copy and paste the prompt here for you to enjoy.
> 
> Chapter 10: lots of fucking, like literally all the fucking. They do the do, the frick frack paddy whack. 
> 
> yes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’d rather be with you, thanks.”
> 
> Harry’s mind was suddenly back in the infirmary at HQ, Merlin’s iPad clutched in his tight grip as he listened to Eggsy say almost those exact same words to Chester King. He was helpless to stop his lips turning upwards into a bright smile, the warmth reflected in dark mahogany as his eyes crinkled at the corners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, trashbag author here. I would just like to take a moment to thank you all so much for the wonderful comments, both via AO3 and tumblr, and kudos, I never expected anything like this you guys make me cry daily. I started writing this fic for myself but now I dedicate it to all of you gorgeous people.
> 
> Also I hope you appreciate the absolutely darling man (and soon to be mr trashbag author) who is wonderfully obliging when I ask him how penises work from a male perspective 
> 
> “Yes, I get that but how do they work from your end?” “Wat.” “Tell me everything in detail I must document it.” “Mmmkay sit down bitch we gon’ be a while.”

Merlin heaved a weary sigh as he peered at the nervous young faces of the candidates that stood, hands clasped and to attention, in front of him.

_My God, they’re just children._

In the wake of V-Day, the remaining Kingsmen found themselves having to replace the six agents that were lost - either by accident or, in the case of Arthur and Morgan, betrayal.

_Those first few days had been a living hell for Merlin._

He’d watched, powerless to do anything as Harry lost all control and slaughtered an entire congregation. He remembered thinking to himself how much Harry was going to need him to recover from that, only to feel numbness settle around him like a blanket as he watched Valentine point the gun and fire. The gunshot seemed inaudible compared to the sickening pop that sounded over the feed, as a spray of bright red showered the lenses. 

Time shattered to a halt. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. His heartbeat pounding in his ears, he barely registered calling for Arthur and obeying his order to assemble to other knights. 

He couldn’t dwell; there was work to be done, a world to save. A leader to replace, and a brother to avenge. 

_Harry would have been so proud of his boy._

He was, eventually, once Merlin had shown him the footage. He recalled the barely restrained pride on Harry’s face as he listened to Eggsy respond to Arthur’s proposal, _“I’d rather be wiv’ Harry, thanks.”_ Harry observed Eggsy’s dispatch of Valentine’s henchmen with a critical eye, giving praise where praise was due and complaining that the boy paid far too much attention to his left side to the point of neglecting his right. Merlin affectionately ribbed him for nit-picking, but Harry grasped his hand and thanked him with utmost sincerity for saving the world.

At the time all Merlin could think of doing was keeping Eggsy safe. He had to protect the boy, for Harry.

_They won. For once the headlines rang true: Mass outbreaks of violence end as quickly as they began._

Unable to allow himself to drown in the grief of losing someone he held so dear, Merlin devoted all his energy to running Kingsman. The night he’d gotten a call from Percival, the agent sent to retrieve Harry as soon as he’d been shot, found him brooding in a battered leather armchair in his living room – the third night in a row he’d gone without sleep. The rips in his chair were made long ago, when Harry insisted on bringing his ridiculous little dog to dinner and said ridiculous dog insisted on having a violent altercation with Merlin’s Persian, Delilah. 

He had just settled down, resigning himself to another sleepless night when he heard his phone ring. He was confused as to why anyone he knew would be ringing so late, and even more perplexed by the fact that it was Percival – the knights only ever tried to reach him through his glasses. He would later discover that, in a blind panic, Percival had seemingly forgotten that the glasses even existed, instead fumbling in his suit jacket for a phone with no contacts and dialing three wrong numbers before he reached Merlin.

He dropped the glass of water he was holding, oblivious to the sound of it shattering on the hearth, its contents pooling at his feet and soaking through his socks.

_Harry. In a hospital. Alive._

Through some miracle he’d managed to coordinate his mind and mouth for long enough to arrange Harry’s transport back to England and thank Percival before he dropped to his knees and emptied the contents of his stomach onto his nice, clean carpet. 

_Harry. Alive._

It was raining when Harry arrived at HQ, and Merlin had been standing in it faithfully waiting for him for over an hour. They marched in silence through the halls – wet, rubber soles squeaking on the dry, tiled floor. He stood, standing guard over Harry’s body as the best surgeons in the country fought to save his life. 

_He might not make it,_ they told him.

 _He bloody well better,_ he replied.

When the surgeons had done all they could do, Merlin took over Harry’s care, not trusting any of their doctors to do so themselves. Other knights they could tend to, but not his Harry. Merlin was a man with many talents in his personal arsenal; being confined to a desk for most of the day, regardless of whether or not one was tracking missions, gave one a wealth of opportunity to study. And study he had.

The only other person who spoke more languages than Merlin was Harry himself, but only because Merlin had been determined to equally divided his time between that and studying medicine, though Harry’d be damned if he let him forget it. Kingsman’s influence afforded him the opportunity to speed through medical school when he joined their ranks as the magician, and in his opinion he was the only one qualified to care for Harry.

He would never forget the nights he spent at Harry’s side - slumped painfully over the bed in such a way that left him in agony when he woke - grasping the pale, clammy hand tight in his and praying to a God he didn’t believe in to just save him. He bargained away things he couldn’t remember offering, but one of them must have been agreeable, for fate decided that Harry Hart was going to live _dammit._

He couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed as he sobbed brokenly into his friend’s arms the minute he’d shooed Lancelot and Galahad from the room. Harry was too weak to return the embrace, but his fingers twitched and his voice cracked and his eyes welled up with tears, and Merlin knew that he understood.

Harry’s recovery wasn’t easy. The man seemed determined to escape from the bed at every available opportunity. Merlin would turn to change a bandage and he’d be up and out and by the door before Merlin had time to turn back to face him.

 _The bugger can still move_ , he marveled idly one morning as he chased an irate Harry down two flights of stairs and across a sodding wet training pitch. The man had slipped, but Merlin had dutifully caught him and urged him back inside, out of his wet clothes and into bed. Harry went willingly, permitting Merlin one small victory while already planning his next daring escape.

In the end Merlin got sick of worrying about him and thrust his care onto Eggsy, fully aware of the younger man’s feelings for his mentor. He admitted there _may_ have ulterior motives in this respect. It would only be a matter of time before he had tangible evidence that those feelings were shared by the older man himself. 

Harry’s eventual recovery and Eggsy’s acceptance of the position of Galahad filled two of the empty posts, but with Kay’s recent defection and subsequent incarceration, they were still five agents short.

Merlin was tasked with finding even more comprehensive tests to push their newest recruits to their limits – having never worked with so large a group before - however, studying the range of expressions – from abject terror to barely contained excitement – playing about the faces in front of him, he was convinced that the candidates were getting younger every year.

_He was also convinced that the senior agents were doing it just to fuck with him. Bastards._

He had just begun to explain the purpose of stitching razor blades to the inside of ties to one particularly infuriating little brat – who apparently didn’t see the need for Merlin’s obsession with expanding their arsenal when they were already carrying knives – when he heard the tell-tale beeping of his computer picking up an incoming feed.

_A welcome distraction._

“Gather round, you lot; you’ll not have seen this working before, but when we’re in the field the only way to communicate is through the glasses you will be given if you are successful in becoming a knight. This,” he gestured to the green line of text blinking at him, “is an invitation to open a video feed with Arthur, our most senior knight and leader. Your king, for all intents and purposes. You will address him as _'Sir'_ if spoken to, and keep your mouth shut if you aren’t.”

He could see that they understood the formality of the situation. “Best behaviour, everyone. Don’t let me down.” Turning back in his chair, with the candidates crowding eagerly around him, he opened the link to the video feed and very nearly choked at the sight that greeted him.

_Oh. Bloody buggering fuck._

_Quite literally_. For taking up an entire fifty-inch monitor was the image of Harry Hart - stripped naked and breathless - rolling Gary ‘Eggsy’ Unwin – also naked and, consequently, panting with need - onto his chest.

_“Ride me.”_

_Oh heck no._

Merlin sat, jaw slack with astonishment, helpless to stop the feed unless Harry terminated it himself, as Percival snapped into action and all but hauled the little ones out of the room by the scruffs of their necks, each a varying degree of pallor, and one showing a tad too much interest.

He very slowly removed his glasses and placed them on the table as he heard the door snap shut behind him and muffle Percival’s attempts to explain what they’d just seen.

_If he was going to have to watch it, he needn’t actually have to be able to see it._

Harry was basking in the afterglow of another successful round of intimacy with Eggsy when he heard the sharp chirp coming from his glasses. Grinning, he prepared himself for the confrontation to come.

As soon as he un-muted the feed, he was delighted to hear Merlin’s seething in his ear, “I hope you’re pleased with yourself.” 

Harry chuckled, but Merlin didn’t give him time to respond before he continued.

“I was with our candidates this morning and when I heard the feed activating, I thought, _‘Lovely, might as well show the wee ones the tech they could be using.’_ So I gather them around my computer expecting to be demonstrating the finer communicative abilities of projective glasses, only to find that instead of our esteemed leader reporting in after a job well done, we were to be treated to the sight of said esteemed leader bollocking the brains out of one of our top agents. Luckily, Percival threw them out before any of them suffered any permanent mental scarring, though I’ve never seen him move so fast.”

Harry was trying very hard to contain his laughter so as not to wake his sleeping lover.

Merlin continued, oblivious. “I strongly suggest that we postpone your meeting with them, given that they’ll need time to recover from seeing so much of you.”

“And you won’t?”

Merlin’s disgruntled huff made very difficult for Harry to maintain his composure. “Harry, I’ve patched your skinny arse up more times than I care to remember. There isn’t anything of you I haven’t seen, and, _God_ – how I try not to dwell on that cheerful thought.”

Harry blinked. “I wasn’t aware you’d caught me in the act yet.”

“Remember Bolivia?” Merlin grumbled sourly.

Harry cast his mind back. “Ah, yes! The eccentric billionaire with a fondness for mirrors and men in glasses.”

“I couldn’t look at you for a week.”

“And what a happy week that was for me,” Harry grinned.

The feed was silent for a moment as Harry glanced down to gaze upon Eggsy’s peaceful face. The younger man was slumped across his chest, one hand resting on his heart and the other curled in towards himself. His lips were still reddened by their earlier activities – _and Lord, did that boy have a talented mouth_ – and his cheeks were only now starting to lose their flush. Harry smiled softly and couldn’t bring himself to care when he realised that Eggsy was drooling from the corner of his mouth.

Merlin’s voice brought him back with a start. “Job well done, though.”

“Are you referring to the confiscation of the would-be slavery chip and the dispatch of the offending terrorists, or this?” His hand drifted down to lovingly caress the back of Eggsy’s head.

“Both, and you know it, ye smug git.”

“I believe I have you to thank,” Harry admitted softly, voice heavy with sincerity.

Merlin sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his thumbs, determined to ignore the sting he felt as they began to dampen. He resolutely ignored the break in his voice as he spoke, “Don’t, Harry. You know I’d give anything to see you happy. Both of you.”

Harry laughed softly and felt his own vision start to blur. “Thank you all the same, brother.”

Merlin coughed to mask the sniff he gave as he considered how much Harry’s words affected him. 

Merlin cleared his throat and shook his head, “Don’t be a sap, old boy. I’ve got that room booked for another night. Take the time, Harry,” he began, cutting off the protest he knew would come, “and enjoy yourselves. You’re in Paris for fuck’s sake.”

Harry snorted, “I’ve been in Paris before.”

“Aye,” said Merlin, smiling despite himself, “but never with him.”

Harry nodded slowly and thought about how wonderful it would be stroll through the streets of Paris in the warmth of the sunlight with Eggsy on his arm. He grinned.

“I believe that sounds just perfect, thank you.” 

Merlin sniffed again and prepared to sign off, before a final thought occurred to him. “Oh, and I’d steer clear of Percival too. You lost him a substantial amount of money.”

“How so?”

“Well, he didn’t think you’d have the balls to go through with it.”

_Charming._

“As glad as I am that the particulars of my love life remain a continuous source of entertainment for the rest of you, I’d appreciate it immensely if you’d stop making bets about it.”

Merlin’s quite snigger was infuriating, “Goodbye, Harry.”

“Hmpf,” Harry grunted, slipping off the glasses and setting them beside his pillow. He was surprised to hear Eggsy’s drowsy yawn as the younger man stretched languidly across his chest, bringing his hand to wipe at the corner of his mouth before glancing up to give him a bright smile.

“Who’s makin’ bets ‘bout wha’ now?” 

Harry couldn’t help but trace his fingers along the line of Eggsy’s jaw, the boy’s eyes sliding closed as he delighted in being petted. 

“The other knights. They were apparently betting on whether or not I’d have the courage to do this.”

Eggsy grinned and slowly brought his face up to Harry’s, bringing their lips together in a gentle kiss. “I’m real glad you did.”

As he lowered himself back down to lie on Harry again, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

_“Harry isn’t used to being wanted.”_

He cleared his throat, “Harry?”

“Mmm?”

“Bit late now, I know, but…last night- I mean, that wasn’t the first time you- you know-” He cut himself off at Harry’s bemused snort.

“Eggsy you know what a honey-pot is, don’t you?”

Sure he did, he’d seen Roxy go on plenty of them. She dressed herself in these sinfully skimpy but extortionately expensive gowns and stalked some fancy gala like she owned the place, easily seducing her mark and getting what she came for. The only thing was – where every other agent seemed to follow through – Roxy never actually slept with any of them. She’d be in and out in under five minutes, drugging them and smearing lipstick over their collars. She’d then take a little too much pleasure in leaving behind some strategically placed scratch marks and be on her way with a flick of her chestnut hair and a spring in her step.

_He tried not to think about Harry skilfully seducing and bedding his clueless female mark to gather information._

“Yeah, but I mean- like with blokes?”

An elegant brow arched and Harry’s lips twitched up at the corners.

_And male, apparently._

But, _oh_ , how he could see him. He’s be as cool as always; draped elegantly over the corner of a bar or a chair or a railing. He’d be wearing a suit, naturally, one that clung deliciously to his long legs and lean torso. 

If the mark was a woman Eggsy had a feeling Harry wouldn’t be wearing a tie. He’d have his shirt buttons undone at the throat, maybe have his hair falling forward. He’d keep the glasses on, and sip heady, amber liquid from a crystal glass as she tried to mask how much his burning gaze was affecting her. He’d stalk over, six foot plus of poise and power, and she’d know it. With a voice as rich as chocolate liqueur he’d whisper in her ear until she was _gaggin’_ for it. 

With a man it would be different. He’d be pristine, everything about him perfectly controlled and not a hair out of place. He wouldn’t smoulder, the looks he’d give would be neutral but lingering, teasing. It would be enough to make any man of the right persuasion curious to see what lay under those impeccably starched lines and creases. It would make them want to rough him up, make them want to be the reason he loses that perfect composure. Eggsy knew that for a fact.

Eggsy lay considering whether or not he felt jealous or relived at not having been Harry’s first with a man, unaware that his lack of response was starting to worry the older man.

 _Surely he can’t think that’s what this is, can he?_ Harry swallowed the lump beginning to form in his throat and tried to ignore the uncomfortable twisting in his stomach. _But what if that’s all he wants it to be?_

_No. ‘Love,’ he’d said. Love._

Eggsy decided that he didn’t care about past lovers, as long as Harry was willing to overlook Eggsy’s own promiscuous past. He turned his head to tell Harry this when he caught sight of the strange expression pulling at Harry’s features. He stiffened as he realised what he’d said, or rather, what he hadn’t.

“Fuck- Harry, no. I didn’t mean it like that-“

Harry’s finger came to softly rest on his lips, silencing him. He felt his erratic heartbeat calm as Harry smiled fondly at him, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Merlin has given us the room for an extra night, so why don’t we go somewhere for breakfast and then we can talk. Really talk.”

 _Really talk._ Eggsy didn’t like the sound of that one bit.

They had dressed and left their room in silence. Upon leaving the hotel Harry pulled on his jacket to force him to turn right and Eggsy obediently followed, trying very hard to distract himself from the impending conversation by absorbing the sights and sounds of a far less busy Paris. It was unnerving – he noted – to see so few people in the square around them.

They had settled themselves in a pair of wrought iron seats under a café awning – the metal heated by the sunlight and the air thick with the scent of fresh flowers, fresh bread and fresh coffee - when Harry cleared his throat.

“If you’ve no objections, I would like to go first-“

“I love you.”

Harry blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Eggsy sat across from him, the expression on his face fearful. The younger man inhaled and began again. “I love you, Harry. I just- I need you to know that, ‘cause if you’re gonna say what I think you’re gonna say – not that anyone ever really knows what you’re gonna say – I just want to say first, I love you.”

“Well, yes. I love you too.”

_Wait, what?_

Harry was staring at him, head titled to the side and brows drawn together in confusion. “I thought I made that clear last night, Eggsy. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“I thought you just meant sex.”

Harry’s face fell and his heart skipped a beat. “Did you just mean sex?”

Eggsy considered Harry. The man in front of him was staring intently with an expression of absolute sincerity. He was letting Eggsy make the decision. His eyes traced the hard set of Harry’s jaw, the downturned lips and crinkled brow. He looked into Harry’s eyes and saw what he needed to see; despite the resignation evident in the rest of his face, his eyes were alight with the most honest expression of yearning Eggsy had ever seen. He slowly slid his hand across the table to meet Harry’s fingertips. 

Watching the relieved smile break onto Harry’s face gave him courage. “I want you, Harry Hart.” The answering smile was breath-taking. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much in my life. At first I thought it was just this physical thing, but then then you weren’t just some guy in a pub kickin’ arse – _you were Harry_. You gave me a chance when no one else would even look twice at me. You taught me all this incredible stuff and didn’t yell at me when I fucked up, not even when it was bad, not even when I fucked up with the final test.” 

He tried to ignore the break in his voice, determined to say what was needed. “And then I thought you were dead.”

“Well, I was clinically dead for six minutes.”

“I know, I was there.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, Merlin couldn’t get me to leave.”

“I see.”

“It was rough. See, I thought I’d got you back, when they brought you to HQ. But then to be told you might not make it after all, that was rough. And then the machine stopped beepin’, just went dead like in those bad doctor shows mum likes, and Merlin was shoutin’ and Roxy was pullin’ me back and I couldn’t make my feet move because I was numb.”

He inhaled deeply to calm his quavering voice as his accent became more pronounced, harsher, “But your beep came back. And I just- I fell, down on my knees because I couldn’t stand. It was like everythin’ I had in me just left and I was so, so tired. Merlin – he just…broke. He was sobbin’ and tryin’ to work through the tears and cursin’ every God he knew in every fuckin’ language he could speak.”

Harry’s grip on his hand tightened ever so slightly. He had heard Merlin’s account of his battle in the Kingsman ward, but Merlin had deliberately failed to mention that Eggsy was present for it. 

“And I remember thinkin’ was that I was gonna fuckin’ kill ya if you didn’t make it. Merlin let me sleep in the room with you, in the other bed. Rox couldn’t get me out and I know I weren’t eatin’ right but, Christ, I needed to be there when you woke up.”

Harry’s thumb traced the lines of his trembling hand, ghosting across his knuckles before bringing it to his lips and softly kissing his skin. He smiled into Eggsy’s hand. “You were the first person I saw.”

Eggsy flashed a tearful grin and dropped his gaze to their intertwined hands. “And you? I mean, I don’t want you sayin’ it just to spare me or nothin’-“

Harry reached out his other hand and titled Eggsy’s chin up, “I’m not planning on sparing anything, Eggsy. I won’t lie to you, after you kissed me in the living room I had my reservations.”

Seeing the younger man’s face fall he quickly reassured, “Not because I didn’t want this, but because I wasn’t sure I could give you what you wanted.” Eggsy’s brow furrowed as he considered Harry’s words. 

“What couldn’t you give me?” He asked quietly.

“I’m old enough to be your father, for one,” Harry sighed tiredly. “Wouldn’t you rather have someone your own age? Someone you won’t have only thirty years at best with before they’ll need you to help them in and out of their chair? Someone you won’t have to remind to take their medication on the right day?”

Eggsy watched Harry’s downcast gaze drifting across the table as he rhymed off a clearly much dwelled upon list and grinned. He laced his fingers with Harrys and pulled the older man’s arms towards him, forcing his body to follow. Harry looked up in surprise and was caught off-guard by the chaste press of Eggsy’s lips to his. When the younger man pulled back he raised his fingers to touch Harry’s cheek, and stared lovingly into the deep, dark pools of Harry’s eyes.

“I’d rather be with you, thanks.”

Harry’s mind was suddenly back in the infirmary at HQ, Merlin’s iPad clutched in his tight grip as he listened to Eggsy say almost those exact same words to Chester King. He was helpless to stop his lips turning upwards into a bright smile, the warmth reflected in dark mahogany as his eyes crinkled at the corners. 

_Eggsy could have lost himself in those eyes._

The moment was broken by the appearance of their waitress. Without lifting his gaze from the beautiful young man in front of him, Harry ordered a coffee and nothing else. Eggsy, having been raised properly by his mum who’d endured one too many undignified positions serving food, chastised Harry with a glare that lacked any heat and turned to look at the young woman beside him.

His words died on the tip of his tongue when, instead of a stranger, there stood before him Roxy, dressed in a crisp white apron complete with little notepad and pen. Her wolfish leer told him everything he needed to know. 

“How long have you been here then?”

His words drew Harry’s attention to her and he dropped Eggsy’s hands, leaning back in his chair and glowering disapprovingly. “Lancelot.”

Roxy did waver, “Sir.” She smirked as she addressed Eggsy, “I take it you were successful?”

Eggsy, without breaking eye contact, reached back across the table to lay his hands on Harry’s, relieved to feel the older return his caress. He twitched his eyebrows suggestively and winked. “Very.”

_Let’s see how much she’s willing to say in front of Harry._

Roxy returned the wink without skipping a beat, “Oh believe me, we know.”

_Shit._


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, who do we have to fuck to get where you are?”
> 
> “You what?” Eggsy’s pen hovered just above the paper and his eyes clocked every head in the room turn towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you are all incredible i love you all so much excuse me while i die

Eggsy fiddled nervously with his cufflinks when the taxi pulled into the gates of HQ, his mind wandering absently as he watched the grand mansion emerge from the treeline. Merlin was waiting for him at the base of the steps.

_Of course he was._

The taxi came to a stop in front of the older man and Eggsy stepped out to be greeted with a clipboard and a stop watch.

He eyed the offending items held out to him. “Remind me why I have to do this again?”

Merlin gave him a long-suffering look as he thrust the board and watch into Eggsy’s hands. “Because we each have to take our turns with the candidates.” He began to make his way up the steps, trusting Eggsy to follow. “Normally, I would be doing this all by myself, but with our agents already stretched thin on the ground, I can’t monitor their missions and train the wee ones at the same time. I’ve given shifts to each knight, and you’ll be monitoring their weekly full kit runs.”

Eggsy shuddered. How he’d hated the weekly full kit run. Merlin insisted that they were able to run the twelve mile track that ran around the expanse of the Kingsman estate, in full camouflage no less, with a ten stone pack and all their weapons attached to them. They weren’t allowed to drink anything from their canteens, for if any one of them did, they’d all have to run it all over again at six the next morning. Eggsy learnt that one the hard way.

As they made their way towards the back of the mansion, Merlin turned to watch Eggsy carefully. “How was Paris?”

Eggsy glanced at the older man, wary for any tricks he might be playing. Harry hadn’t told him whether or not the magician was present for their little show, but Merlin hadn’t mentioned anything to either of them so Eggsy _fervently_ hoped he wasn’t. He could find nothing but honest curiosity and Merlin’s eyes, so he relented.

“Paris was incredible. I mean- it was quiet, sure – and kinda creepy really. But, that’s what ya get when sixty-three percent of the world’s population gets wiped out in a single afternoon.”

“Sixty-eight, actually.”

“Christ.”

Merlin nodded sombrely, then hesitated. “And things are okay between the two of you?”

Eggsy paused - noting Merlin’s sly, knowing grin - and huffed. “You already know that they are, don’t you? Did Harry tell you?”

Merlin had slowed to a halt and leaned back, propping one foot up against the wall. He whistled, long and low, before bringing his face closer to Eggsy and whispering conspiratorially, “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say he told me, as such.”

Eggsy stiffened. _Shit. He was there._

Merlin’s bark of a laugh drew him back from his worry and he was relieved to find that the older man wasn’t offended. Still, he thought it best to apologise. “Sorry, I didn’t know Harry was-”

“Shush now, it’s not the worst thing he’s ever done, trust me.”

Eggsy searched Merlin’s face for any trace of mistruth and found that his expression was as open and honest as he’d ever seen it. “So, nothing’s gonna be weird between us…is it?”

Merlin kicked himself away from the wall and rocked on the balls of his feet. “Not at all, my lad. It’s just that now I know what both your pasty arses look like.” 

_Eggsy couldn’t help but laugh along with him._

Satisfied that neither party was offended, they continued to the field behind the mansion, where the candidates were assembled and already complaining about the beginnings of rain on their heads and the weight on their backs. 

Sensing Eggsy’s nerves, Merlin leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t worry, they aren’t all that bad. You just need to see them off and time them when they pass the checkpoints. One of them is wearing a camera and mic, so if any start to get left behind, make them stop. The point of this is teamwork, don’t let them leave anyone in the rough.”

He patted Eggsy’s shoulder and took his place before the newest potentials, drawing himself to his full height and waiting patiently for them to stop chattering. He didn’t have to wait long, for Eggsy knew from experience that the very sight of Merlin would be enough to silence them.

“Alright everyone, welcome to another pack run! I expect you to be able to shave at least two minutes off your last time.” Ignoring the frustrated groans he continued, “I not, you’ll be running it again until you do!”

Merlin gestured for Eggsy to join him at the front. “This is Galahad, he'll be tracking you from now on, as I am needed elsewhere. You will behave, and if any of you have any complaints you can keep them to yourselves.”

 _Someone’s in a pissy mood_ , thought Eggsy, as Merlin abandoned him with the crowd of new recruits and jogged up the steps behind him.

Steeling himself for their inevitable resistance, Eggsy turned back to face the candidates, only to find that none of them, bar one exceedingly cocky looking blonde – _Charlie 2.0,_ as Eggsy immediately dubbed him – could meet his eye. He cleared his throat.

“Right, you lot. Shoo.” They didn’t need to be told twice, each of them nodding hurriedly and scrambling to set the pace for the rest of the team.

_Huh. Maybe this won’t be so bad then._

His cheery optimism continued as he tracked the group’s progress around the estate. They seemed to get the hang of the exercise far quicker than his own group had, making sure to keep pace with the slowest member. Eggsy remembered that only he and Roxy had offered to keep place with Rufus as the rest ran ahead, Charlie at the front as usual. 

He offered soft words of encouragement into the mic, trying to reassure the three that looked most likely to collapse by the time they hit the tenth mile, but it seemed to be effective, for when they reached their starting point again they had knocked three minutes and eight seconds off their last count.

Eggsy smiled and congratulated them. As he moved to retrieve his clipboard he noticed that Roxy had appeared from nowhere and was grinning at him. He left the others to chatter amongst themselves and went to join his friend. She was dressed in her immaculate suit, the soft wool and crisp white shirt partially hidden under the thick duffle coat she had wrapped herself in.

“Cold?”

She sniffed delicately, “Getting one. Took a very wet detour in Moscow last week and I think it’s starting to catch up to me.” Eggsy frowned as he considered her drawn brows and thin mouth, deciding that whatever was bothering her had nothing to do with the sniffles.

“’Sup Rox?”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, noting his obvious concern and resigning herself to asking for his help. She quickly swept her honeyed eyes over the crowd in front of them, reassuring herself that they were too far away to hear her before she leaned her head closer to him. 

“Look, I’ll be frank. I helped you with Harry and I was wondering if you could return the favour?”

Eggsy raised both brows and clicked his teeth before balking, “Oh god- its not… _Merlin_ , is it?”

Roxy’s horrified expression and indignant spluttering informed him of his mistake. “No! No, God no!” She raised her fingers to her lips as she realised that her outburst hadn’t gone unnoticed by the assembled candidates. Eggsy gave her shoulder a pat and called out for them to return to the dormitory as Merlin had instructed. 

He matched his stride with Roxy’s as they followed the recruits along the side of the sandstone building, taking shelter from the now pouring rain underneath the balcony above.

Eggsy knew that with Roxy, the best approach was often the direct one. “So,” he began hesitantly, “If it ain’t Merlin then who is it?”

Roxy’s fingers twitched as she drew the coat further around herself. “Do you remember the night Charlie failed?”

“V-Day, the night he ended up with his brains spattered on the floor?”

“No, Eggsy. The party?”

“What party- oh wait yeah that one wit- _Oh my God!_ You and that posh girl!”

“How did you know?” She stared at him, astounded by his deductive skills. Eggsy huffed a laugh and cupped his hands over his mouth, blowing into them to keep warm. He tried not to be _too_ impressed with himself.

“Please, Rox; she didn’t look half as interested in me or dickface as she did you.” 

He could see her lips twitching as she tried her best not to look pleased with herself. “You done anythin’ about it yet?”

“Not yet,” she admitted with a soft sigh. 

“Christ,” Eggsy whistled, “better hurry up Rox, fit bird that ain’t gonna be single for long.”

He saw her sharp eyes glance at him from the corner of his eye. “I wasn’t aware that you paid much attention to…fit birds.”

Eggsy sniffed and shrugged, “I like fit girls, I like fit blokes.” He paused and then flashed an impish grin. “I like fit birds that dress like fit blokes, or ye know, the other way round.” It had been a mistake, saying that – a realisation he came to when he saw Roxy’s lips twist into a smirk that was reflected in her eyes. 

_“Really,”_ she purred, elongating the syllables, “does Harry know this?”

Eggsy poked her shoulder and shook his head, his expression serious, “Oh no. No, _fuck no_ \- and don’t you _dare_ tell him.” He could see her struggling not to laugh as they approached the dormitory door.

“Why not, he might be obliging?”

“Oh yeah sure, and how do you predict that conversation going, _‘Hey Harry, put these knickers on would ya love?_ ’”

Eggsy had never considered himself having a good relationship with the fickle mistress known as Lady Luck. He considered this fact again as he pulled the door towards himself and came face to face with a room full of alarmed candidates and an equally startled Merlin. Of course he hadn’t lowered his voice before opening the dormitory.

_Of course he fucking hadn’t._

Most of the candidates had collapsed onto their beds in full kit as soon as they entered the room, but the rest were standing in a crowd, unabashedly staring at him. To Eggsy it felt eerily similar to the feeling he had when he entered the dormitory for the first time as a candidate himself. 

Merlin resolutely tried not to laugh as he instructed Eggsy to fill in the group’s scorecard, leaving the room with a barely contained smile and a cough to hide his snicker.

_Wanker._

Eggsy perched on one of the chairs in the corner as he filled in their scores, desperately trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks and the whispers resonating around the room. He felt a soft tap on his shoulder and glanced up to see Roxy standing over him, also trying very hard not to smile. “Well done though, you got them through it.”

Eggsy coughed to clear his throat and was relieved that his voice did not betray his embarrassment. “Nah, they did most of the work.”

“Merlin will be impressed.” She squeezed his shoulder and pulled away to move to the back of the room. Eggsy smiled fondly at the thought of seeing Merlin’s impassive face when he handed their scores in. He wouldn’t show it to the rest of them, but Eggsy knew he’d be pleased. 

“Galahad, _Sir?_ ”

He looked up for the source of the mocking voice and found Charlie 2.0 leering snidely at him while leaning against one of the bedframes. A few pairs of eyes gravitated to them as the smug little git stuffed his hands into his pockets and licked his lips. Eggsy gave a noncommittal grunt and nodded for him to continue. 

_He wasn’t too fond of the smile he got in return._

“So, who do we have to fuck to get where you are?”

“You what?” Eggsy’s pen hovered just above the paper and his eyes clocked every head in the room turn towards him. Roxy moved from where she’d been engaged in conversation with a perky brunette and made as if to start towards them. Eggsy stopped her with a subtle twitch of his fingers and an imperceptible nod of his head.

“Well, it’s clear that sleeping with your superiors is how you people move up the ladder, so who do we have to fuck to get the job? The knights who proposed us, hmm? Or maybe Merlin?”

At the mention of Merlin’s name, Eggsy snapped, surging forwards to grab the little prick by the throat and pin him to the cold wall. His clipboard and watch clattered to the floor, and no one made a move to stop him. He was just about to drive his fist into the younger man’s nose when he felt the warm, gun-calloused fingers wrap gently, but firmly, around his wrist. He jerked his head to look over his shoulder and saw Merlin standing behind him with a grim expression on his face.

Angry - yet suitably ashamed for allowing his temper to get the better of him - Eggsy withdrew, only to leap back in astonishment as Merlin all but lunged to take his place, slamming the boy flat against the wall with a dull thud and a hand threateningly wrapped around the base of his throat. Eggsy knew that Merlin only had to squeeze.

The blonde prick seemed to realise this too, but unfortunately for him, didn’t seem to have been blessed with the ability to recognise when to keep one’s mouth shut.

“What!?” He sputtered as Merlin’s grip tightened fractionally, “Are you going to tell me I can’t talk to him like that?”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he slowly leaned in to hiss at his prey, “On the contrary; you can say whatever you like to Galahad, as long as you realise that after you’ve picked yourself up off the floor once he’s done with you, you’ll only have a few seconds to recover before you’re knocked back on your skinny arse by Arthur.”

Eggsy blinked and darted his eyes towards Roxy who was, like himself, frozen to the spot in a state of absolute shock. A quick glance to the side at the other candidates revealed much the same. 

Merlin wasn’t finished.

“And if there’s any bones left not broken,” if it were possible, his voice dropped even lower into a menacing whisper, “I’ll be next in line.” He abruptly stepped back in one graceful movement and watched with a sneer as the boy dropped to the floor and stared up at him, wide-eyed and suitably terrified.

“Now you’ve passed every other test, so I don’t have the authority to dismiss you yet, but if I hear any more shit coming out of your mouth, _boy_ , mark my words you’ll be on that shuttle faster than you can blink.”

He turned his dangerous glare to the rest of the candidates and all but growled, “Fall out.” Eggsy had never seen them move as quickly as they did, scampering off in fear in different directions. 

Merlin stalked towards the door, calling over his shoulder for Eggsy to follow him. Eggsy jumped to obey, rushing out of the room with barely so much as a glance back at those standing frozen behind him.

He silently followed Merlin along the corridor, up a flight of stairs and through a door he couldn’t remember seeing before. As soon as he entered Merlin ordered him to close the door. The man slumped into one of the plush seats in the centre of the room and removed his glasses, dragging a trembling hand over his tired eyes and gesturing for Eggsy to pour them both a drink.

Eggsy handed him the stout, crystal glass and took the seat opposite, marvelling at the softness of the well-worn leather against his fingers. Merlin didn’t seem inclined to speak, so he took the chance to examine his new surroundings. 

The room reminded him of Arthur’s office, minus the paintings and the massive table. The walls were panelled with rich, dark wood and the floor was covered in a thick, green and tan paisley carpet. There were no curtains covering the windows, only heavy shutters pulled back to allow the dim afternoon light to flood into the room. There was one table off to the side, the tea set and decanter neatly arranged on its polished wooden surface. The air was thick with the scent of wood polish and smoke, and Eggsy turned his head to peer at the fireplace set against one wall. The flames had only recently been extinguished. 

Apart from the two armchairs in the centre of the floor, there was no other furniture to be seen. No decorations on the walls, no odds and ends cluttering the space. 

_No distractions._

Merlin must have noticed him scrutinising the room, for his deep voice brought Eggsy’s attention back with a quiet mutter. “My quiet place.” It was the only explanation he gave, and Eggsy nodded thoughtfully as he swirled the liquid in his glass. 

He watched the man in front of him sink back into the chair, his eyes slipping closed and a heavy sigh of contentment leaving his lips as his left hand palmed the leather arm. He began to inhale and exhale in slow, measured breaths. After a few minutes he opened his eyes and rested them on the younger man in front of him. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips and he waited for Eggsy to lift his glass before he spoke.

“You know, as much as I love either of you, I never want to hear the words _‘Harry’_ and _‘Knickers’_ mentioned in the same sentence again.”

Naturally, Eggsy choked. The sweet brandy burned the inside of his throat as it trickled down what was _definitely_ the wrong pipe.

“What- no! I didn’t-” His sputtered yelp was cut short by Merlin’s bark of laughter. “Oh fuck off, you did that on purpose.” The raised eyebrow he got in return reminded him why Harry was so frequently in a huff with the man sitting across from him.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Merlin placed his glass down beside his chair. He turned his gaze to the patterns flowing across the window panes as they were showered with rain. “I wanted to talk to you, properly.”

“Me and Harry,” Eggsy asked, already sure of the answer.

Merlin nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off the window. “You and Harry.”

“Is this gonna be the ‘if you hurt him I’ll rip your fucking balls off’ speech? Because if it is, I can save you the bother, mate. Harry’s more than capable of looking after himself.”

Merlin snorted as his eyes found Eggsy’s. “Physically, yes. I’ve no doubt he could beat you to a bloody pulp if necessary. The problem is, he wouldn’t.”

Eggsy frowned. “Wouldn’t what?”

“Beat you to a bloody pulp if necessary.” He realised that he’d lost Eggsy completely and took a moment to organise his thoughts, before deciding that he’d better put it simply. “Harry would rather let himself suffer through the bad than call you out for hurting him.”

Eggsy stiffened like a dog on the alert, suddenly defensive. “An’ you think I’d hurt him enough for that to happen?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Merlin scoffed, retrieving his drink from the floor. “You’re bloody stupid over him. You wouldn’t hurt him.”

Eggsy hadn’t relaxed his shoulders, his hands gripping the soft leather. “Okay? So what you on about then?”

“You might not hurt him, but what if Harry hurts himself?”

“You ain’t talkin’ ‘bout bodily self-harm, are you?”

“No.”

Eggsy’s chest heaved as he breathed in deeply through his nose, his eyes focused on the patterned carpet. Suddenly he lifted himself out of his chair and crossed the room in four, wide strides to come to a stop by the window, as equally fascinated by the crystalline streams of water as Merlin had been. “You said Harry wasn’t used to being wanted.”

“I’m still not telling you why.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

Merlin considered the tense lines of Eggsy’s shoulders and the excessively tight grip of his hands on the glass he was holding. The younger man nodded, and Merlin was satisfied that he’d gotten his message across. His next words were, however, surprising. 

“I want to get him something.”

Merlin blinked. “Harry’s not one for being kept.”

“No, not like that. I just- I wanna get him something nice. To thank him.”

Fully aware of the fact that the younger man was so very easy to tease, Merlin snorted, “Thank him for sleeping with you? He’s not a whore, Eggsy.”

“Shut up! Harry warned me about you, you know.” Drawing himself up to his full height and tilting up his chin, he continued in his best imitation of Harry’s accent, _“’Everything he says must be ignored, Eggsy. He’s like a schoolyard bully, reacting will only encourage him.”_

Merlin grinned, “My, my – you’ve got me pegged, my boy.” Eggsy rather ungracefully re-deposited himself in the chair opposite Merlin, slumping forward and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. 

“Look, he bought my mum a pair of earrings yesterday. Expensive ones, just ‘cause he felt like it. Who does that?”

“Harry does, actually. Frequently. He’s always been free with his money, even more so since he became a Kingsman.”

“Yeah, but that’s the problem, innit? I mean, fuck. When I was younger I used to struggle to buy my girlfriends a nice bunch of flowers. Now? With Kingsman? I could buy Harry a car if he wanted. I could fly him to the states, buy him dinner and get him one of those big, vintage muscle cars he’s always banging on about, and all without worrying about the money. And then buy him flowers, a whole fucking garden full of ‘em. It’s mental.”

Merlin peered at him over the rim of his glasses and smirked. “Don’t buy Harry a car.”

“Why not?”

The smirk widened as Merlin leant back in his set and placed his hands behind his head, immensely satisfied that had yet another opportunity to embarrass his dearest friend. 

“Harry can’t drive.”

Eggsy froze. “You what?”

Merlin shifted forward and braced his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his knuckles and looking entirely too pleased about the situation. “Harry Hart,” he began with a devilish grin, “can’t actually drive. Haven’t you ever wondered why he’s always being chauffeured around?” 

“I thought it was ‘cause he was too bleedin’ lazy to do it himself,” Eggsy sputtered.

Merlin masked the laugh trying to break free with a cough, “Harry’s failed his driving test six times. At different points in his life.” Taking a sip of scotch and swirling the amber liquid over his tongue he swallowed with a satisfied, “Ah,” before placing his glass on the floor beside him and taking the time to enjoy Eggsy’s disbelief.

“Harry can’t drive?”

“Nope.”

“Harry Hart can’t actually drive a car?”

“Nope. And it’s not for lack of trying either. Believe me, and don’t ask how I know because I’m not reliving the experience, but putting Harry behind the wheel of a car is the biggest mistake anyone could ever make.”

Eggsy sat back in his chair, floored at the realisation that he had discovered something monumentally embarrassing about Harry. For all that the man gave the impression of a debonair yet deadly professional killer, Mr. Sophisticated couldn’t drive a car. Eggsy’d been stealing them since he was fifteen, and driving them for longer still.

Having derived enough enjoyment at Harry’s expense, Merlin drained his glass and stood, holding his hand out for Eggsy to shake. Once their palms clasped, he dragged the younger man in and whispered in his ear.

“But he can drive a motorcycle.”

With that he swaggered out of the room, leaving Eggsy dumfounded and distracted by the rather tantalising image of Harry Hart in leather, his manic laughter fading into the background as he rounded the corner and marvelled at the fact that Harry was still friends with him. 

_Though he did his try his best to avoid it to begin with._


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It isn’t something I’ve ever considered before, but for you- with you? Yes.”
> 
> Eggsy finally found his voice, unable to bring himself to care that it came out as a hoarse croak more than anything else. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, but you should all be proud that trashbag author maganged to write an essay on relinquishing natural liberty, instead of hartwin! As a reward for your patience, have some shameless kink box ticking, in what i think is the longest chapter yet.

Eggsy was exhausted by the time he’d made it to the front door. London was welcoming in the evening in around him, the people he passed steadily becoming younger and louder.

 _Never again_ \- he decided, as he turned his key in the lock and opened the door to be greeted by the warmth of an already roaring fire and the soft glow of the hallway lamp - _never again was he going to let Merlin talk him into monitoring missions instead of taking his shift with the candidates._

Eggsy figured he’d much rather spend an entire day locked in a small room with Charlie 2.0 than face the mental exhaustion of trying to coordinate two search and rescue missions, a snatch and grab and one _very_ messy assassination.

_At least then he would finally be able to punch the smug little twat._

He closed the door softly behind him, listening for any signs that his mum was at home. Sophie’s playpen was empty, and her travel bag was missing from its usual perch over the end of the banister, so he assumed they’d both gone out. He was still in awe of how quickly Harry – who was quite possibly the most organised person he’d ever met – had taken to having Sophie’s paraphernalia scattered about his home. 

He’d learnt to pick his way _just so_ across the living room, so as not to trip over her toys and book, books that he himself had insisted on buying her and reading to her from. He’d started stocking fish fingers – despite detesting the smell of them cooking – in the freezer and bananas – even though the fruit gave him heartburn – in the fruit bowl. He’d even begun to absentmindedly inspect her travel bag on his way past the stairs, just to make sure that she had enough clean socks. 

Eggsy smiled fondly as he recalled his mum asking Harry about it, the older man having simply replied with a sniff, _“One can never have enough clean socks.”_

He toed off his shoes and placed them by door, frowning as he heard the quiet sounds of music drifting down the stairs. 

_Harry must be home._

He made his way to Harry’s office and paused in the doorway, smiling as his heart lifted at the sight of Harry leaning back in his chair – seemingly absorbed in whatever he was doing on his laptop – with JB’s plump little ball of a body planted firmly across Harry’s sock covered feet. 

Harry addressed him without glancing up from his work, “He’s keeping my toes warm. Now, are you going to stand there for the rest of the night or are you coming in?” Eggsy grinned, crossing the room and reaching under the desk to give JB’s head a good scratch. The pug relished the attention, but stayed in what was apparently a very comfortable position, with Harry’s feet as his cushion. Eggsy straightened up and smiled down at Harry as the older man glanced up to meet his eyes.

He lifted his hands and traced his thumb along Harry’s cheekbone, impossibly giddy at the fact that it was his prerogative to so do. Harry’s eyes crinkled at the corners and he turned his face to the side, pressing a gentle kiss to the pad of Eggsy’s thumb. 

In the moment Eggsy had forgotten how tired he was, until the fact made itself known as he yawned widely, with a soft grunt, and blinked to clear his bleary eyes. Harry’s mouth twitched at the corner and he gestured for Eggsy to take a seat - an invitation that the younger man gladly accepted, happy to be able to take the weight off his tired legs and feet.

He allowed his eyes to slip closed as he listened to the rhythm of Harry’s typing mingle with the quiet ticking of the wall clock. His breaths became deeper as he felt his mind being wrapped in a blanket of silence, slowly succumbing to his desire to sleep. He was pulled back to awareness by the sound of Harry clearing his throat.

“I thought you’d be interested to know that Richard has been sent home.”

Eggsy blinked and shifted upright in his chair. “Who?”

“That young man you were about to assault.”

He blanched, but refused to look at Harry, instead finding himself entirely absorbed in the stack of newspaper clippings littering Harry’s desk.

_He must have seen the feed from Merlin’s glasses._

“Oh?”

Harry watched him with feigned disinterest, subtly taking a mental note of every move the younger man made as he rose from the chair and approached his desk. “Hmm, yes. He failed to make the next cut; good athlete, talented tactician, but his marksmanship was subpar at best.” He could tell that Eggsy’s mind was elsewhere as he absently leafed through Harry’s papers, most likely back in the dormitory.

Harry wouldn’t admit in in polite company, but he was immensely proud of Eggsy for keeping his temper for as long as he did. He was equally proud of the fact that it was an insult to Merlin’s honour that forced him to react, satisfied that Eggsy cared for the older man as he did for Eggsy. 

_Even if Merlin had a funny way of showing it._

“His conduct was an issue as well; entirely ungentlemanly.”

Eggsy felt a tight knot settle in the pit of his stomach. “I take it you’ve seen the footage then?”

“I have,” Harry nodded, attention fixed on his laptop screen and not Eggsy, “and I know what he said to provoke you.”

Eggsy heaved a sigh and prepared to defend himself against Harry’s disapproval. “Look, fuck being a gentleman, yeah? You can’t expect me to stay quiet when people say that shit-”

“And I know what you said to prompt him.”

Eggsy frowned at Harry’s stoic face. “I didn’t say nothin’.”

“Yes you did. To Lancelot.” Harry watched the confusion play across Eggsy’s face and tried very hard not to smile as he tilted his head and lowered his voice to a murmur, “Something about my wearing…knickers?”

_Shit. Piss and shit._

Eggsy was, rather unsuccessfully, trying to will away the heat that was spreading across his cheeks and disappearing beneath his collar. Harry tracked the progress of the attractive flush, lifting his eyes to Eggsy’s lips as the younger man began to worry them between his teeth. “Harry; I was only jokin’, yeah?”

The little voice in the back of his mind told Harry that Eggsy wouldn’t have the courage to ask for what he wanted before they’d even started having this conversation, and he had braced himself for the younger man’s hesitation. Absently tracing his fingers along the rim of his glass, Harry glanced up through his eyelashes at the man in front of him, feeling only _slightly_ guilty for teasing him. 

“That’s a shame, then.”

All coherent thought left Eggsy’s brain as he watched the older man shift his intense gaze from Eggsy’s lips to his neck and back again, holding the rim of the cool glass slightly too far from his mouth so that his own lips would catch the amber liquid and the soft light. Vaguely he recalled something about seduction techniques, but was far too bewildered to consider the fact that Harry was using them on him. His mind was still trying to process the word’s he was sure he had misheard. 

“Wait-what?”

In one swift and fluid movement, Harry had reached forward, placed the glass on the desk in front of him and gracefully risen from his chair. As he crossed the room and passed Eggsy, the younger man caught the delicious scent of Harry’s cologne. He was just passing through the door when he spoke over his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have been adverse to the idea.”

This time Eggsy could barely manage a choked _‘What?’_ before he felt his feet move of their own accord to follow Harry across the landing and to his bedroom. The older man began to methodically remove his clothing, taking care to fold and press and tuck every inch of his suit, shirt and vest into its proper place. He stood before Eggsy, clad only in his perfectly pressed cotton underwear – which was doing very little to hide his arousal - and an infuriatingly nonchalant expression that was so, uniquely _Harry._

“It isn’t something I’ve ever considered before, but for you- _with you?_ Yes.”

Eggsy finally found his voice, unable to bring himself to care that it came out as a hoarse croak more than anything else. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

Harry’s lips twitched into an almost imperceptible smirk, and the man had the bloody _gall_ to wink at him.

He surged forwards, closing the gap between them in a few powerful strides.

Before Harry could blink a hand firmly grasped his chin and tilted his face up to meet Eggsy’s mouth, the younger man’s tongue darting out to part his lips and taste him. He pulled back with the barest scrape of teeth and stared, chest rising and falling as he panted, irises blown wide with arousal.

Harry smirked. “Though I’m afraid you’ll have to purchase said garments; you are, after all, the _lingerie connoisseur.”_

Eggsy recaptured his lips, determined to wipe the smug grin from his face. Bringing his hands to Harry’s shoulders, he gently urged him backwards until his knees met the end of the bed. The older man fell back with a muffled grunt as Eggsy’s weight pressed against his chest and stomach, the rough material reminding him that he was in a far greater state of undress than his partner. 

He slid a hand between them to work at the buttons on Eggsy’s stubborn jacket, only to have his hands batted away as Eggsy ended their kiss with an obscene drag of teeth over tongue and rose to straddle Harry. His eyebrow quirked as the younger man began ever so slowly unbuttoning his own jacket, allowing it to slide from his shoulders and pool on the floor beside the bed. 

Harry would have commented, had he not found himself incapable of making a sound that didn’t leave his lips in a breathy moan as Eggsy - with a tantalising flash of teeth biting into his bottom lip – shrugged his shoulders and let the leather straps of his holster slip down his arms and come to rest at his elbows. 

_Harry was suddenly struck with the thought of using them to bind the younger man’s hands._

Before he could process just how aroused his little digression had made him, Eggsy had moved on to his shirt, popping the buttons in precise, deliberate flicks of his fingers. He let it hang open as he lowered himself back down to press little kisses along Harry’s jaw, his neck, his collar bone. 

Grinning, Eggsy ran his tongue along Harry’s chest, flicking briefly over each pebbled nipple and continuing down, down to his stomach. Mindful of Harry’s ticklish sides, Eggsy gripped the older man’s hips firmly, and pulled his body further down the bed, until his feet touched the floor. 

Harry tried to tilt his upper body to see the younger man, but he was pushed gently back into the sheets by a strong hand on his chest. “Don’t you dare move.”

His head fell back onto the bed as Eggsy’s lips ghosted over his cloth-clad erection, inhaling sharply when he lowered his mouth and began to lap at the wet patch staining the front of Harry’s underwear.

_“Jesus Christ.”_

Eggsy permitted himself a secret smile - hidden behind the cloth pressed to his cheek - at the sound of Harry’s gasp. He gently pressed his nose to the fabric and inhaled the heady scent of Harry’s arousal, before reaching up and hooking his fingers into the waistband of Harry’s underwear. 

He knew he was teasing, as he slowly dragged the hem of Harry’s boxers over his hips, feeling the older man shift his hips up to give him more room. A wicked thought struck him, and he darted his tongue out to lap at Harry’s head as he was freed from the waistband, letting the elastic stretch tight across his thighs without bothering to pull them any further down.

Harry cursed softly, biting down on the back of his hand as Eggsy’s tongue worked him with long, slow strokes. A deep groan caught in his throat when the younger man took him into his mouth, and he glanced down to see Eggsy’s bobbing head, his eyes focused on Harry.

Eggsy lost himself to the feeling of Harry’s heavy cock on his tongue, savouring each and every hitch in the older man’s breath as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked. He could barely hear his own laboured breathing above the lewd, wet sounds of his mouth bringing Harry to the brink.

Harry came with a hoarse cry of Eggsy’s name on his lips, and Eggsy did his very best to swallow every drop. Harry watched as his partner pulled back and rose to his feet, his shirt slipping down one shoulder as he hurried to free his own straining erection from his trousers. Eggsy hastily shoved both his waistbands down with one hand, using the other to roughly tug himself to completion, painting Harry’s chest and stomach with hot jets of white. 

_“Fuck, Harry.”_

He fell forward onto his hands – breathing ragged - and braced himself above the older man, grinning at the oh so fetching sight he made, stretched languidly across Egyptian cotton sheets and covered in Eggsy’s release.

_Utterly ruined._

Harry’s contented smile did strange things to Eggsy’s stomach as he gathered a tissue from the box beside the bed and began to clean up the mess he’d made of the older man. Harry – sated and sleepy – allowed himself to be taken care of, obediently rolling to the side when Eggsy nudged him further up the bed. He fell back against the pillows, pulling the younger man to his chest and groping for the duvet.

Having settled himself and his arms’ precious cargo he pressed a gentle kiss to Eggsy’s brow. “I love you,” he breathed. 

_Eggsy didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing those words._

He beamed as he tilted his face up to kiss Harry goodnight. “I love you too.”

_And fuck if he’d ever get tired of saying them._

Eggsy slowly drifted awake, smiling softly and relishing in the sensation of bathing in the warm sunlight pouring in through the window. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned, feeling the tension drain from his tired muscles. Reaching behind his back, he felt around for Harry. The bed was empty, but he took comfort in the discovery that the sheets were still warm. Distantly he heard the sounds of running water coming from the bathroom. 

_Brushing his teeth, I’ll bet._

Reaching under his pillow he felt around for his phone and sent a quick text to a number he knew off by heart. 

_Rox, meet me at the house at 1, its important – E x_

Merlin was a stickler for privacy, and insisted that they kept no contacts in their phones, and all conversations and records of calls were to be deleted after a week. Eggsy couldn’t really be sure of the purpose, given that their network was heavily encrypted by the man himself, but assumed that Merlin was taking extra precaution after the incident with the former knight, Kay.

Upon hearing the bathroom door open, Eggsy quickly stashed his phone underneath his pillow and rolled to the side facing the open door, feigning sleep. He heard Harry’s footsteps approach the bedroom, but stop just shy of entering. He focused on keeping his breaths even.

“I know you’re awake, Eggsy.”

_He was apparently unsuccessful._

Gingerly, he cracked open one eye and found Harry standing in the doorway, hair mussed by sleep and sex, soft, brown eyes not quite fully awake. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and the pyjama bottoms he wore hung low on his hips, showcasing the purple mark Eggsy had worked _so_ hard to create the night before.

_Beautiful._

Apparently having had enough of being stared at, Harry strolled across the room, aware that Eggsy’s eyes tracked his path from the door to the dresser. He picked his robe off the chair and wrapped himself in the luxurious red silk, turning to find Eggsy grinning at him from the bed.

“Red looks good on you.”

He gave an answering smile of his own and approached the younger man, chastely pressing his lips to Eggsy’s and touching their noses together. “Good morning, Darling.”

Before he could pull back, one of Eggsy’s hands had wound its way into his hair and kept him in place as the younger man, taking advantage of his surprise, brought their mouths together. 

_Minty._

The leisurely dance of their lips and tongues was brought to a halt by the chirp of Eggsy’s phone, and the younger man withdrew with a final peck to the tip of Harry’s nose, before reaching underneath his pillow.

_This better not be about finding you another pair of shoes – R x_

Eggsy grinned.

_Nah, much better – E x_

True to her word, Roxy arrived promptly at one, her hand raised to knock the door when it was suddenly flung open by Eggsy. She blinked, and had barely set foot over the threshold when Eggsy was wrapping his fingers around Roxy’s wrist. He pulled his protesting friend through the door, calling out behind him “Yeah, got it- call Merlin, call mum, don’t call Gawain – bye Harry!” and leaving the older man to stare bemusedly as the door closed on Roxy’s hastily shouted, “Goodbye, Sir!”

Eggsy waited until they were safely around the corner and out of Harry’s line of sight in case he was watching them through the window, before he released Roxy. 

She calmly stepped back and regarded him with an elegantly arched brow, her hands coming to rest on her hips and her head tilting ever so slightly.

_Classic 'Amused Roxy', not in trouble then._

“What was all that about?”

Eggsy jerked his head to the side and motioned for her to follow him. She fell into step at his side as they picked their way through London’s early afternoon crowds.  
Instead of answering her, Eggsy asked, “You going in today? Should’ve asked earlier.”

Roxy frowned and shook her head. “Everything’s been pulled back until Merlin selects the new knights; we’re being stretched far too thin on the ground, and Merlin’s under so much pressure already.”

It was true, the magician was beginning to wane in his enthusiasm for training, and more and more of the senior knights were being asked to step in. Roxy wasn’t the only one who had noticed that he was getting slower, less focused. Eggsy had refrained from commenting, but there were dark circles appearing under the older man’s eyes, and more than once he’d found him asleep in his chair in his ‘Quiet Place.’ 

On those occasions Eggsy had simply shrugged off his jacket and covered the man before silently leaving the room. Merlin would return his jacket when he next saw Eggsy –neatly folded - with a fond smile and a grateful nod. 

Eggsy began to habitually chew on his bottom lip. “Do you think that maybe we should pick up some more shifts?” 

Roxy raised her brow in surprise. “With the candidates? You hate the candidates.” 

“Nah,” he shook his head, “just the blonde prick. Harry told me he’s gone now - pretty shit shot, apparently.”

Roxy nodded and tugged on his sleeve to hold him back, waiting for the taxi to pass them before crossing the road. “Yes, he left last night after a terribly ugly row with Merlin.” 

“How d’ye mean?”

Roxy sighed. They had reached the low wall that enclosed the outer terrace of one of Harry’s favourite cafés. She lowered herself down to sit on the sun-warmed stone – tucking one leg beneath her and gesturing for Eggsy to take a seat - then turned to him, squinting in the bright light. “It was awful,” she began. “Three of them were being sent home. Normally it would only have been one, but since there are so many of them this time, Merlin had to be very selective in evaluating their weapons scores. Richard didn’t take it too well, started calling Merlin all sorts of horrible things. And you. And Harry. Petulant little brat, really.”

Eggsy scoffed, “Don’t I know it.”

Roxy leaned her head towards him and whispered, “I thought Merlin was really going to hit him this time.” At Eggsy’s raised eyebrow she continued, “Percival came in then, pulled the two of them apart. They were standing _this_ close,” she indicated a fraction of an inch of space between her thumb and forefinger, “and he grabbed Richard by the collar, tossing him to one of the other boys. Then he put himself in front of Merlin and tried to calm him down. Merlin sort of stalked off, grumbling about going for a nap, and Percival oversaw the boys packing up. He stuffed them in the shuttle and told me to go and check on the other candidates. They were terrified, they’d never seen Merlin so angry. _I’d_ never seen him so angry.”

Eggsy nodded thoughtfully. _Might have to check in with him later._

“Well with that tosser gone I’d be happy to pick up some extra shifts, the rest aren’t that bad. I like the little one, Pradibah or- um is that how you-“

“Pratibha. _Pruh-teeb-ha_.”

Eggsy nodded, repeating the sounds as Roxy tried not to laugh. “Yeah, her, I like her. She ain’t half as stuck up as the rest.”

“Her grandparents moved from India just after the got married, very old money.”

“She always smiles when she sees me, she didn’t even bat an eyelid when I tried to apologise for Harry’s transmission.” Roxy snorted, “Did you try to apologise to them all?”

Eggsy shook his head, “Just her. She was the only one who could look me in the eye.”

Roxy grinned and lifted herself off the wall, standing in front of Eggsy and offering a hand. “If she becomes a knight, you’ll at least have to learn how to say her name properly,” she gently ribbed as she pulled him to his feet.

“Shut up, Rox.”

They walked for a few minutes in companionable silence before Roxy realised that Eggsy hadn’t even told her where they were going. “Why did you want me here, anyway?”

Eggsy stiffened and glanced around nervously, relieved to find that the lunch crowd had died down considerably, and everyone was either eating or back at work. Even so, he pulled Roxy closer to the side of a building before muttering to her quietly, “I talked to Harry.”

Roxy nodded, still confused, “Okay. And this means…?”

She could see that Eggsy was struggling with something on the tip of his tongue and she tried to hide her fond grin as she placed a comforting hand on his arm. “You can tell me.”

Eggsy cleared his throat, “I talked to Harry about- um…the-” he dropped his voice to a low whisper, “ _the knickers.”_

Roxy struggled to bite back the laugh that caught in her throat, taking pity on her embarrassed friend. “I’m assuming that he was just as agreeable as I told you he would be, otherwise you wouldn’t have dragged me out to help you buy them.”

Eggsy stared at her, wide-eyed, and swallowed. Gaining confidence at her easy acceptance, he gave a little grin and took her arm in his. “Well, yeah. Not that I wouldn’t go and buy them myself, but you’re a mate, and I thought you might like to get a little special something for you as well.”

He smirked at her bewildered expression, “Come off it, Rox. I know you’ve got a hot date lined up with that posh girl.” 

Eggsy was impressed by how quickly she dropped the act, “How did you know?”

Eggsy grinned, “I heard you asking Merlin for some time off tomorrow night. He asked you why, you said _‘personal reasons’_ and I thought that was a bit funny, ‘cause you never take time off just for you. Then when you got up to leave I heard him say something about how she liked you in that navy dress. Weren’t too hard to put two and two together,” he finished with flirtatious wink.

Roxy gripped his arm tightly and reached up to flick his ear, “Cheeky.” Eggsy’s smile only widened. “Well,” she huffed, “for your information, she’s not some posh girl. She’s one of our actors.”

Eggsy almost missed a step, “We have actors?”

“Of course, don’t you remember the staged raids to root out the mole, the marks were all actors.”

Eggsy blinked, “I just thought they were other agents, or handlers or something. Do we really have a whole division of actors?”

Roxy laughed, “Eggsy, we have an entire division dedicated to baking poisons into pastry, of course we have actors.”

“Poison? In the pastry?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Eggsy whistled, “Remind me never to eat anything Merlin gives me again.”

They reached a street lined with extortionately expensive boutiques and bespoke merchants. It was the kind of street Eggsy never dreamed he’d be able to set foot on without being chased away by security. Now, they nodded respectfully to him as he passed them by. He caught sight of his reflection in one of the tall windows and had to admit that Harry was right, he looked damn good in his suit.

Roxy stopped them outside a window displaying a collection of delicate, lace negligée. “Here, I’ve been here before. Lovely products, and they’re perfectly discreet.”

Eggsy nodded and held the door open for her as they were greeted with a smile by a pleasant and impeccably dressed middle-aged woman. “Good afternoon! Looking for something special, are we?”

Before he could respond, Roxy had taken the woman’s offered hands in both of hers and smiled brightly. “Yes, I’m looking for something for myself, and my friend here is interested in purchasing something for his boyfriend.”

Eggsy covered his choke with a cough and tried to calm his sudden flush, as the assistant turned her gaze to him. “Of course, do you know his measurements?” she smiled kindly, and Eggsy suddenly felt more at ease. 

A few hours later found him in the back of the shop, perched on the edge of a plush leather sofa - glass of wine in hand - listening to Roxy trying to stuff herself into something else he was sure was ridiculously slutty, but just expensive enough to get away with it. 

He grinned, giving her two thumbs up as she pulled back the curtain to reveal a slip of black satin and lace. “Bloody hell, Rox. You look stunnin’.” She tried not to flush, but flicked her loose hair over her shoulder all the same, “Thank you.”

She sashayed towards him in bare feet and admired herself in the full-length mirror. The assistant had left them with samples and catalogues while she tended to some customers in the front, and Eggsy had been admiring the selection on offer, imagining the models’ legs a little thicker, their chests a little flatter, and their figures a little more masculine.

“Nice bum,” he leered, dodging the pair of frilly knickers she threw at his head. She finished inspecting herself and came to stand beside him, pointing to the pile of lace and frills on the sofa beside him.

“Found anything you like yet?”

Eggsy nodded, sifting through the material until he found what he was looking for. He pulled from the pile a simple pair of delicate, white lace briefs with a lavender ribbon tied at the front. He was certain that the material would be long enough to cover Harry. 

Roxy’s smile was genuine as she plucked them from his fingers and examined the intricate pattern. “Very pretty, Eggsy. Well done.” He ducked his head to his bashful grin.

Roxy called to the assistant and twenty minutes later they left the shop, bags in hand. Eggsy tried not to feel too guilty about charging their purchases to the agency’s account.

_He figured Merlin could use a good laugh._

They settled in a bistro just off Saville Row, where Eggsy listened to Roxy complain about Percival’s nagging and in return she offered a sympathetic ear to his plight with monitoring the control station. 

“I don’t see why he’s suddenly so defensive,” she muttered as she vigorously stirred her coffee, not caring that little drops where splashing onto her saucer. Eggsy laughed and reached out his hand to stop her, “Easy, girl, I think the sugar’s dissolved now, yeah?”

He pulled back and tried not to grin at her sour expression. “I think Percival’s just worried about you is all. You were his proposal.”

Roxy considered his words as she watched London prepare itself for dinner through the window they were seated at. She took a careful sip, pursing her lips and adding more sugar. “You’re as bad as Harry”, Eggsy pointed out as she emptied her fourth packet into her cup.

“But why now? Why is he suddenly objecting to my being sent abroad?”

Eggsy frowned at his reflection in the glass table top. “It takes a while for realisation to set in after a trauma.” He saw Roxy’s face soften and he shook his head. “I’m just saying, Percival was meant to be at HQ when it all went down, but instead he took a mission with Tristian. Instead, he left you to deal with that on your own. I mean, don’t get me wrong, babe, you did brilliantly - but I know Harry’d feel just the same if he were in Percival’s place.”

Roxy nodded slowly, “So you think he’s feeling guilty for leaving me alone, and he’s dealing with that by smothering me?”

Eggsy grinned, “Didn’t say he was going the right way about it.” Roxy rolled her eyes, but conceded that her friend made a good point. She resolved to speak with Percival later. A thought suddenly occurred to her. 

“What if I petition Merlin to send us both? Percival’s only ever been my partner for domestic missions, the trivial stuff.” 

“Sounds good, yeah. Give him a chance to see what you’re really made of. Though how the guy can doubt that after you saved the fucking world is beyond me.”

He drained his cup and felt Roxy’s hand come to rest atop his. “ _We_ saved the fucking world.” The afternoon sunshine paled in comparison to Eggsy’s answering smile.

They parted ways after coffee; Roxy to the shop to pitch her idea to Merlin, and Eggsy back to the house. He reached the door just as the sky was beginning to fade to a dusky pink, and as he turned the handle the soft light from the hallway flooded the cobbled street behind him. 

He closed the door on the warm evening air and was greeted by the smell of Harry’s cooking.

 _Roast._ He smiled, appreciating Harry’s willingness to indulge his taste for comfort food.

He slipped his small parcel into the inside pocket of his jacket, hanging the garment on the peg and joining Harry in the kitchen. He stood in the doorway admiring the sight of Harry hart wearing his checked apron, slipping off-cuts of beef to a distracted JB.

_Figures, food’s more important than me._

Harry noticed him first, giving him a bright smile as he turned from the stove and removed his apron. He crossed the room and enveloped the younger man in his arms, pressing a light kiss to his forehead and stepping back to allow their overly excited mutual companion to slobber all over Eggsy’s hands.

“Your mother called earlier, said she’d be spending another night with Jackie.”

Eggsy nodded, glancing up at Harry from the floor where he was tickling a pug that was practically paralytic with joy at the attention. “She’s my mums oldest friend, helped her out when things got too rough with Dean.”

Harry gave an acknowledging, “Ah,” and gestured to the dinner waiting on the table. “You have impeccable timing, I was just about to call you.”

Eggsy grinned and took his seat, “Yeah, sorry. Rox and I got caught up.”

“What did the two of you do today?”

Eggsy stiffened, “Um- just shopped and…stuff.”

He was so preoccupied with his potatoes that he failed to notice Harry’s concerned frown. A frown that remained in place throughout dinner and was still worrying his brow as they climbed the stairs afterwards.

Harry finally relented as they retired to his office for the evening, their preferred place to sit and drink. “What’s the matter?”

Eggsy shrugged, “Nothing’s the matter.”

“ _Really?_ ” came Harry’s incredulous scoff. “So it’s nothing to do with that white bag I saw you slipping into your pocket earlier?”

_Fuck. Couldn’t be subtle around this bloke._

“It’s a present.”

One eyebrow rose in surprise. “A present?”

A nod.

Harry paused for a moment before his eyes narrowed, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with our conversation last night, would it?”

Eggsy met his gaze defiantly and with a smirk, holding out his hand to Harry, “Might do.”

Harry accepted the offered hand and allowed himself to be led into what he had started referring to as _their room_. Eggsy pecked his cheek and excitedly took off down the stairs to retrieve his jacket, while Harry made himself comfortable on the bed, removing his cardigan and folding it neatly on the sheets beside him.

Eggsy reappeared, holding a small package in his hands. He took a deep breath and approached the older man, holding it out to him.

He waited with baited breath as Harry plucked the deceptively innocent white bag from his fingers and peered inside. Eggsy had to bite his lip to hold back his whimper as Harry withdrew its contents and began twisting the elegant fabric through his fingers. At his sharp intake of breath Harry’s dark eyes darted up to meet his, and the older flashed him a wicked grin before rising from the bed and wordlessly leaving the room.

Eggsy tried to calm his shaking limbs as Harry disappeared into the bathroom. 

_They were doing this. They were actually fucking doing this._

His wiped his damp palms across his jeans, before remembering just who it was he was with.

_It’s Harry. No need to be nervous around Harry. Harry loves you._

The soft footsteps alerted him to Harry emerging from the bathroom…still clad in his slacks and shirt. Eggsy dropped his eyes to the floor and tried not to feel too disappointed by the sight.

“It’s okay if you couldn’t do it. I unders- _mmph_ -”

He was cut off by the press of Harry’s mouth to his, the older man deepening the kiss as he gently pushed on Eggsy’s shoulders to force him flat against the bed. He pulled back, grinning as he rose and sat astride Eggsy’s hips, mirroring Eggsy’s pose the night before. 

Eggsy hadn’t even heard him cross the room.

“On the contrary. Such a treat deserves to be gift-wrapped.”

_Oh. OH. Oh fuck._


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She boldly strode forward and wrapped her arms around the older man’s waist, pressing her face against the rough wool of his cardigan and squeezing him tightly when he didn’t respond. Merlin snapped out of his shocked stupor and his arms slowly encased her in warmth as she breathed in the scent of gunmetal and cigar smoke that clung to the fabric beneath her cheek. 
> 
> Her voice was thick with tears as she whispered into his chest, “I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything a chapter needs: shameless kink-box ticking and fluff

_Oh fucking hell._

Eggsy couldn’t speak. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and try as he might, he couldn’t force the words through his lips. 

He blinked. Once, twice – trying to make sense of the image in front of him.

Harry Hart was straddling his waist, perfectly calm and composed, save for the visible bulge straining against the zipper of his slacks - and _presumably_ , the white lace underneath them.

Seeing the younger man’s struggle, Harry cocked his brow and gave a slow, teasing roll of his hips and Eggsy - powerless by this point to have any sort of control over what came out of his mouth – answered with a low, strangled groan that was swallowed by Harry’s lips suddenly melding with his. The delicious drag of teeth and tongue over his lips was gone in an instant as Harry reared back and smirked down at him. “Are you going to lie there all evening, or are you going to reciprocate?”

_Oh. That’s how you want to play, is it?_

Eggsy didn’t need to be told twice. He growled and surged up to grasp the back of Harry’s head, pulling the older man down to meet him in a searing kiss. Harry’s surprised gasp gave Eggsy the chance to slip his tongue past the other’s lips and trace along the inside of his mouth, over teeth and tongue. Grinning into the kiss, Eggsy pulled back slightly, drawing Harry’s tongue into his own mouth and sucking gently. The breathy moan that answered his actions sent a stab of heat to pool low in his belly. 

Before he could even think about doing it again, Harry had pulled back and pinned him flat on the bed, arms caught above his head in Harry’s gentle – yet deceptively strong - grip.

“No touching,” came Harry’s husky whisper, as he squeezed Eggsy’s wrists and rose back to straddle his hips. Then, just as Eggsy had done the night before, he slowly began to remove his clothing.

_Eggsy wasn't sure he'd looked half as good doing it._

Harry’d already divested himself of his ridiculously soft cardigan – the one that Sophie preferred to sleep on – so he began with rolling his shirt sleeves down to wrists, then started on his buttons. 

Eggsy unconsciously licked his lips as every inch of Harry’s pale throat and chest was bared, the older man’s biceps flexing deliciously under his skin as he shrugged off the shirt and threw it in a heap beside the bed.

_Fuck me._

“Oh I intend to,” Harry’s deep growl was thick with heat, his eyes almost black with the barest ring of brown at the edges. Eggsy gulped and let out a shaky breath as he realised he had spoken aloud.

Harry popped the first button on his trousers, and gradually dragged down his zipper. Eggsy desperately wanted to watch the slip of lace as it was revealed, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from Harry’s intense stare. He whimpered softly as Harry shifted his weight to his knees, rocking forwards against Eggsy’s stiff crotch and pushing the waistband of his slacks down past his thighs. 

The movement drew Eggsy’s gaze downwards, his eyes fixed on the sight of Harry’s firm hips being hugged by the scrap of white lace, his thighs taught from the strain of holding himself in position. The front of the lace was already damp and clinging to his straining length. Eggsy reached out his arms, darting his eyes up to seek permission and – finding it – reverently stroked his hands along the lines of Harry’s lace clad hips and waist. He reached behind the older man, fingers ghosting over the inch of skin visible above the delicate lavender ribbon and firmly gripped the meat of Harry’s arse with both hands, nails digging into the soft flesh. 

The answering twitch of Harry’s cock against its lace confines was enough to undo Eggsy completely. 

Without warning, he grasped Harry’s hips, slid a knee between his thighs and flipped them over on the sheets.

He pressed himself flush against Harry’s naked skin and slipped a hand between them to rub Harry through his knickers. The older man’s mouth seemed to have lost the ability to form coherent sentences, the sounds of Eggsy’s harsh breathing permeated with Harry’s strangled curses and whimpers.

“You’ve got no idea how fuckin’ _good_ you look like that,” Eggsy growled against Harry’s neck as he rolled his hips against the older man’s thighs. “No idea how fuckin’ much I want you.”

Harry’s breath hitched as he stuttered, “Oh- I can feel just how- _ungh_ how much you want m- _ah!_ ”

Eggsy dragged his teeth along Harry’s throat and rubbed a finger along the underside of his cock, softly palming his balls before lifting off. Harry felt him smirk against his neck as he gave a disgruntled whine at the loss of friction. 

Eggsy pulled back to admire the sight of Harry splayed out underneath him, clad only in the lacy underwear he’d bought him. 

_Blue’d look good on ‘im too._

Eggsy untied the lavender ribbon holding the front together, slowly pulling until the bow slipped free before hooking his thumbs into the elastic and dragging the damp fabric off. Harry’s cock sprang free of the lace to lie flat against his stomach, beaded with precum and twitching in the cooler air.

Eggsy grasped the inside of Harry’s pale thighs and pinched, drawing the older man’s gaze from the visible tenting of Eggsy’s trouser to his determined expression.

“Wanna ride you.”

 _“Fuck.”_ Harry uttered the curse softly, lowering his head to rest on the sheets and focusing all of his effort on controlling his pounding heart. He watched as Eggsy stripped off his jacket and start on his tie but before the younger man could remove it, Harry had grabbed the end and pulled Eggsy’s face closer to his.

“Leave the top half,” he ordered.

_And Eggsy thought he was the one with a suit kink._

He willingly obliged Harry by lifting himself from the bed, hastily shoving both his trousers and underwear down, and kicking them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He turned back to Harry, cock twitching as he caught sight of the older man coating his fingers with lube.

He lowered himself onto the older man’s chest, pressing back against the finger he felt prodding at his entrance and breathing a satisfied moan when the digit slipped inside. He began rocking himself back against Harry’s hands, gasping as a second finger joined the first, then a third.

Harry’s eyes were fixed on Eggsy’s face, watching with rapture as the younger man was lost to the pleasure of fucking himself on Harry’s fingers. Sweat began to bead his brow, his eyes blown wide as he focused on Harry’s. The older rose up and captured his lips in a tender kiss, swallowing Eggsy’s little mewls and sighs, and groaning low in his throat as he rutted into the delicious slide of Eggsy’s cock against his own. 

His grip tightened on Eggsy’s hips as the younger man whimpered in his ear, “Need you, Harry.”

Eggsy’s broken sob of pleasure caught against the skin of Harry’s neck as the older man eased himself inside his young lover, rocking gently up into him and allowing Eggsy to set the pace. The younger man planted his hands firmly on Harry’s broad chest, rising up to rest his weight on his knees before lowering himself down agonisingly slowly and impaling himself on Harry’s length. 

The familiar burn began to subside and Eggsy quickened the snap of his hips, his shirt clinging to the damp skin of his torso and thighs. Harry’s nails dragged along Eggsy’s back, digging into the soft flesh of his arse and spreading him wider as he trembled.

“Harry- _fuck_ \- I cant- I need-” His soft cry halted as Harry’s hand cupped his jaw, gently titling his face to look at the older man beneath him.

Harry’s mouth had long since gone dry at the sight of Eggsy squirming in his lap, but still managed a husky, “I love you.”

“Say it again,” Eggsy whimpered, feeling the familiar coil of heat pooling low in his stomach. 

_He was so very close._

Harry shifted suddenly, lowering his knees and heaving himself upright to hold Eggsy as he rocked himself on Harry’s cock. “I love you.” He breathed. “I love you.” He mapped the line of Eggsy’s jaw with soft, open mouth kisses, gently catching the younger man’s lobe between his teeth and tracing the shell of his ear with his tongue. 

_“Darling.”_

Eggsy came, untouched save for rubbing against Harry’s belly, with a soft whine muffled against Harry’s throat. His quiet whimpers continued and he quivered as Harry fucked him through his orgasm, spending himself inside his younger lover after several more lazy thrusts.

_It was sweet and it was gentle; it was perfect._

Eggsy pulled off Harry in a daze, collapsing onto his stomach on the sheets as Harry lovingly ran his fingertips along the damp shirt clinging to Eggsy’s back and over the curve of his arse. The older man shifted to lie down facing him, cushioning his head on one arm and carding his fingers through Eggsy’s damp hair. The younger man grinned and leant into the hand, before stiffening as he heard the distressed yelps coming from the other side of the closed door.

Eggsy huffed and shakily lifted himself off the bed, picking Harry’s dressing gown off its hanger and wrapping himself in it before moving towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To let JB in. Kicked ‘im out ‘cause I didn’t want him to see nothin’ improper.” He heard the sheets rustle behind him and turned to see Harry tucking himself under the covers. “How very considerate of you.”

Eggsy turned the handle and stepped back to allow the little ball of apricot pudge to force its way through the crack. The disgruntled pug refused to look at either of them as he unsuccessfully tried to hoist himself onto the window seat. Eggsy took pity on his little friend and lifted him up onto the soft burgundy cushion, scratching his head fondly and dropping low to peck his fuzzy head. 

He straightened and huffed at the pleasant twinge in his lower half, turning to look at Harry as he lay propped up by the pillows. “Fancy a shower?”

The man in the bed hummed, “Probably should. I did have one earlier, but then you came home.”

Eggsy smiled and held out his hand to Harry, leading him to the bathroom and taking it upon himself to fiddle with the temperature of the shower. 

_He wasn’t going to scald himself just because Harry was impervious to heat._

He leaned back against the older man’s body as Harry rubbed his shampoo through his hair, gently massaging his temples and pressing a sweet kiss to the side of his head when he was finished. In return, Eggsy paid extra attention to the taught lines in Harry’s shoulders, pressing hard with his thumbs and drawing contented grunts from his partner.

There was nothing remotely sexual about it, and yet - standing under the warm spray of water with his face pressed against Harry’s broad chest, as the older man dragged the wet sponge over his back and shoulders – Eggsy thought it seemed just as intimate as their earlier lovemaking had.

Stepping out into the cold air again made Eggsy shiver, but he was soon encased in a warm towel and trying not to laugh as Harry dried his hair for him. He returned the favour, unable to stop his snort as he pulled the towel back to reveal Harry’s hair standing on end in all directions. He kissed Harry’s sour look away and pulled him back to the bedroom.

They slipped into soft sheets and entwined their legs together, drifting off to sleep to the sounds of JB’s muffled snores and each other’s soft, even breaths.

Eggsy’s first text to Roxy that morning came attached to a slightly off-focus picture of Harry, face half hidden by pillows, with a scrap of delicate lace hanging from his fingers in the foreground.

_Nailed it – E x_

Her reply came seconds later. 

_Literally. Well done – R x_

Eggsy was about to answer when he felt Harry stirring beside him, the chirping of his phone having roused the other man. Long, dark lashes fluttered as he slowly blinked himself awake – his bleary mahogany eyes settling on Eggsy as his face softened into a warm smile. Eggsy grinned and threaded his fingers through the older man’s hair, nails scraping along the base of his skull in a way he knew Harry absolutely fucking _loved._

The warmth in Eggsy’s belly spread to his chest as the older man breathed a contented sigh and shuffled closer to him. He yawned with a soft huff, his nose crinkling adorably, before shifting further down the bed and tucking his head against Eggsy’s shoulder. The younger man pressed a tender kiss to fluffy, chestnut, sleep-mussed hair and relished in the warmth radiating from the older man’s body.

He switched his phone to silent and replied to Roxy.

_In return I expect a full rub down of your date last night – E x_

Another instantaneous reply. _Rub down? – R x_

Eggsy tried not to roll his eyes. _Run, I meant run. Only got one hand free here – E x_

_Do I even want to know where the other one is? – R x_

Eggsy swallowed a snort. _Around Harry’s shoulders. Perv – E x_

As he hit send he glanced down at the man in his arms who had been unusually quiet since settling himself there. He prepared to ask Harry whether or not he wanted a cup of tea, when he heard a soft snuffle coming from the older man. He’d fallen asleep on Eggsy’s shoulder.

_Brilliant._

It was a fact known only to a few – namely Merlin and Eggsy. One of Eggsy’s favoured pastimes since making this discovery was to try as often as he could to wake up before Harry, just so he could listen to the delightful sounds the older man made as he teetered on the cusp of waking. Harry made frustrated little huffs and grunts in the back of his throat with every third or fourth breath, as though he were incredibly irritated by the figures in his dreams.

_JB did exactly the same thing when he was sleeping._

Feeling brave, Eggsy carefully stretched out his arm and turned on his front facing camera. He pressed his face into Harry’s hair and closed his eyes, inhaling the comforting scent of sandalwood, sleep, and home.

He took the picture.

Drawing his hand back towards himself he barely noticed Roxy’s text alert, instead his eyes widened in awe at the image of his screen. He’d never seen his own face look so happy, not even in those pictures his mum kept of him when he was little. Harry’s mouth was slightly open and Eggsy knew that if he didn’t move the older man soon he’d end up with a wet patch on his t-shirt. 

_For all that Harry made a show of complaining about Eggsy drooling, he blatantly refused to acknowledge the fact that he did it himself._

One of the older man’s hands was fisted in Eggsy’s shirt, and he looked so bloody peaceful that Eggsy was sorry to have to wake him – but he’d already received a stern warning about changing Harry’s alarms to give the older man more time to sleep, and if they didn’t get a move on they’d both get chewed out by Merlin for being abhorrently late again.

As he was deliberating how to wake Harry is the gentlest way possible, he heard the faint sound of a key sliding into the lock of the front door. JB - ever the faithful household guardian - sprang into action from where he’d been lazily dosing in a patch of morning sunlight on the plush window seat, and took off down the stairs. His dog’s happy barking and his mum’s cheerful greeting had him releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the sounds of Sophie’s joyful squealing as she reached for the little pug finally stirring Harry enough for the older man to roll to the side to try and pinpoint the cause for the ruckus. 

Eggsy gave him a quick peck on the cheek and rolled off the bed, throwing on his dressing gown just as he heard his mum step on the bottom stair. He flashed Harry a wicked grin, and ran to meet her.

Harry lay, cushioned against soft sheets and pillows that carried the scent of citrus shampoo, and listened to the sounds of Eggsy greeting his mother. He rose from the bed and pulled on his own dressing gown, appearing at the top of the stairs just as Eggsy pulled back from his mother’s arms. 

Michelle smiled up at the man above her, “If you both don’t get a move on you’re going to be late.” Eggsy glanced to the side at the wall clock and uttered a soft curse as he jogged down the rest of the steps and into the kitchen. Harry stifled his laughter and reached out to wrap one arm around Michelle. “I take it you had a pleasant weekend with your friend.” Michelle nodded, placing her arm around Harry’s waist as they made their way down the stairs together.

“She’s been there for me when things got bad.” Harry nodded thoughtfully, unaware that Michelle had misread his expression. She pulled herself away from his side and stood in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. “Not that things are bad, it’s just-”

Harry lifted his hands and placed them on her shoulders, squeezing gently. “You haven’t seen her in a long time and she was getting worried.” The tension drained from her face and she nodded. He gave her a warm smiled and moved past her into the kitchen, stopping to drop a kiss against Sophie’s head and obediently reaching out to take her in his arms when she demanded to be picked up.

“Up! Up!”

The sound warmed Eggsy's heart. He still wasn't used to hearing Sophie's voice, the little girl having been too afraid to do much of anything other than cry around Dean. She'd taken so well to Harry, even if she did have trouble pronouncing his name.

_Eggsy rather thought "Awry" suited the older man. ___

____

Harry beamed at her as she thrust her sticky hands into his face, pawing at his cheeks to bring him closer and pressing sloppy kisses to the corner of his mouth. He was immensely grateful for the fact that he hadn’t gotten dressed yet as he tried his best to get as much of the beans and toast into Sophie’s mouth as in his own lap. 

When he was satisfied that she’d had enough he cleaned her hands and face with a damp cloth – marvelling at the fact that the rest of her seemed to be perfectly clean. Eggsy handed him his cup of tea as Michelle retrieved her daughter and deposited her in the playpen, the ever faithful guard dog trotting up to take his place beside her.

Eggsy sniggered quietly to himself as his mum snatched the sugar bowl from Harry before he could spoon any into his tea, sliding across the pot of honey instead and giving him a pointed look. Harry glared and grumbled softly as he dug his spoon into the jar and stirred the sticky lump into his cup, but he knew better than to complain, lest his tea be taken from him altogether. 

They finished their breakfast and managed to leave the house only slightly later than usual, availing of the taxi instead of walking for fear of Merlin’s steadily increasing wrath. The magician’s mood had worsened in the last few days, and a heavy sense of guilt settled in Harry’s gut as he realised what date was fast approaching, what date he'd almost forgotten.

_Bugger._

He brushed off Eggsy’s concerned look as they entered the shop together and sat deep in thought throughout the journey to the mansion. As soon as their shuttle came to a stop Harry darted forwards and brushed his lips across Eggsy’s, before leaping up from his seat and hurrying to Merlin’s office.

He found the magician slumped over his desk, his shoulders hunched angrily and his breathing harsh. He was alternating between flicking through an open folder - scoring entire paragraphs out - and tapping furiously away at his iPad, cursing under his breath.

Harry let the door swing shut, alerting Merlin to his presence as he came to stand behind his chair. “You look like shit.”

Merlin didn’t even glance his way as he gave an angry grunt, “Piss off, Harry.”

Harry offered a resigned nod before stopping just as he reached the door. His hand hovered above the door knob, and he thought back to every miserable afternoon he’d ever had, when he’d simply wanted to lock himself away only to find that Merlin had the extra key. He remembered every moment that he’d felt dark and alone and afraid, and he remembered the man behind him being there, turning on the light, holding him and offering reassurance in a sincere smile or a cup of tea. 

_My turn to play._

“No,” he frowned as he turned to look at Merlin. “You’ve never allowed me to be alone when there’s something wrong, so now I’m returning the favour.” 

Merlin’s sharp eyes watched him as he perched on the edge of the desk, cutting the other man off from his tablet and mouse. He peered up at Harry’s solemn face through his glasses, he huffed, shifting back in his chair and steeling himself for a very long conversation. He knew the other man well enough to realise that he wasn’t going to drop it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t interrogate Harry in return.

“How are you and Eggsy getting along?”

Harry smiled softly. “We’ve been together for five days Merlin, we aren’t at each other’s throats yet.”

Merlin feigned surprise, “Well, I’m absolutely astounded - your personalities aren’t exactly matching.”

“Opposites attract, and don’t change the subject.” His glare lacked any real heat as he reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone, typing a quick text to David. When he glanced down at Merlin, his friend’s head was propped up by the back of his chair, and his eyes were fixed on an uneven patch of paint on the ceiling. 

“I’m exhausted.”

“I can see that.”

“’M’not just tired, though,” he rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead and sighed with a defeated expression, “I’m completely drained, Harry. The world’s gone to shit; everyone’s blaming everyone else for Valentine’s attack and no one really knows where to point the finger, its scaring the shit out of them. I’ve got Berlin breathing down my neck about not being given enough high profile assignments, the Americans are harping on about being given too much work, and if I have to correct the blocking stance of one of those wee bastards one more _bloody_ time I might as well throw myself off the roof.”

“Don’t do that; having to scrape you off the gravel would positively ruin a lovely afternoon.”

Merlin’s retort was cut off by David’s appearance with a silver tray and two steaming white mugs. As he passed, Harry lifted them both and thanked him with a smile.

“You’ve tied me to a chair before to force me to talk about my feelings,” he scoffed as David quietly shut the door, handing the other man a warm mug, “I think I’m being perfectly reasonable.”

Merlin gave a cautious sniff and couldn’t help but smile, “Hot cocoa? Really Harry?” Harry gave the mug in his hand a pointed look, and Merlin relented, taking a sip and feeling the much needed warmth spread through his chest as he swallowed. Harry’s triumphant grin irked him, but he settled back in his chair anyway, wrapping both hands around his mug and watching the wisps of steam as they danced towards his face.

“Do you ever think that we’re getting too old for this?” His voice was barely a murmur, so quiet that Harry strained to hear him despite the silence of the office. 

“Don’t be absurd, we’re fitter than we’ll ever be again, and a good deal more experienced than we ever have been before.”

_About time. ___

____

Merlin grinned. “Finally gotten over your pensioner complex then?”

“Never had one – you and I both know I could knock you on your arse should the occasion require it.” He smirked, tilting his head to the side and raising a brow, “But perhaps you need a reminder?”

_Not bloody likely. ___

____

Merlin placed his mug on the desk and raised both hands aloft, “No chance, last time I sparred with you I couldn’t use my left hand for a week.” He paused, considering his friend carefully, “If you’re so comfortable with your age, then why hesitate with Eggsy?”

Harry breathed a heavy sigh and flicked a loose thread from his trousers. “I was only being pragmatic. It’s a sensible enough assertion that in twenty or thirty years Eggsy will have to look after an old man who needs to be reminded to take his pills in the morning.”

“Aye, and he will. He’ll help you out of bed. He’ll help you get dressed. He’ll help you remember which tablets to take. He’ll reorganise your medication to suit his system, and he’ll drive you barmy doing it. But he’ll love you, all the same.” 

Harry’s face softened as a private smile tugged at the corner of his lips, before his narrowed. “You’re changing the subject again.”

Merlin sighed and drew his brows together. Realising that his friend needed a push, Harry gently tapped his foot against Merlin’s knee. “Take tomorrow for yourself.” Merlin’s eyes stayed fixed on the floor as he absently toed a piece of lint on the carpet. 

“Robert?” He coaxed gently. Harry reached out to lay a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, gripping the woolen fabric of his jumper and waiting for Merlin to look up. “Please, you’ve been getting worse all week. I’m not saying you have to be alone, you know I’m here.” 

Merlin’s eyes darted up as he tried to protest. “Harry no,” he sighed, shaking his head and lowering gaze back down to his hands. “Arthur can’t just take a day off.” He glanced back up at Harry as he felt another hand resting on his other shoulder, the man in front of him studying him intently with a softness in his eyes and a caring smile tugging at his lips.

“He can if Merlin needs him.”

Warmth flooded his chest at Harry’s words, and he nodded. He knew the others had started to notice him slipping up, but he trusted them to know not to comment. Their youngest recruits, however, were yet to be informed, and he couldn’t decide whether or not he’d prefer to keep it that way.

Harry, of course, understood what the play of emotion across his face meant. He clicked his tongue and lowered himself to the floor, setting his mug on top of a pile of Merlin’s meticulously copied notes and smirking at the glare he received.

“I could talk to them, if you like?”

Merlin reached out to move Harry’s mug and thought for a moment before giving his answer, “Aye, I feel like I owe them an apology for the last week,” he paused. “Especially Roxy.”

Harry nodded. “If you’d rather do it yourself then I understand, but-”

“No. No, its fine- you do it, please?”

Harrys hand was at his shoulder again, “Of course I will.” Taking Merlin’s grateful smile as his permission, Harry gathered his half empty mug and left to find the two youngest knights, leaving Merlin to stare after him with a fond expression and feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Eggsy was leaning on the balcony overlooking the back of the mansion grounds when Harry found him. The candidates were sparring below them, guided by Roxy and her stern voice criticising them for every wrong-footed dodge and misplaced fist.

Harry’s hand ghosted along Eggsy’s back and the younger man straightened, flashing him a smile and jerking his thumb in Roxy’s direction. “She’s in a foul mood this morning." Harry’s absent grunt gave Eggsy pause, “What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering him Harry returned his query with one of his own. “Why is she in such bad form?”

Eggsy’s eyes narrowed, “Merlin let her go on that mission with Percival. They got into the taxi with their mark and Rox took her glasses off - only for a few minutes, mind - and put them back on when they got to the hotel. When they got back Merlin just fuckin’ _lost his shit_ at her, started on her in front of the newbies an’ everythin’. And Percival, he didn't do shit to stop him, just sort of stared off to the side like it wasn't happenin'. Never seen ‘im like that, but why am I even sayin’ this- you already know what happened, don’t you?”

Harry nodded without taking his eyes off the young woman below them.

“You gonna stand there and glare or are you gonna tell me what-”

“Merlin’s daughter was only a few years younger than Roxy when she died.”

“What?” Eggsy choked, clearing his throat and gaping at Harry. The older man leaned forward and braced his forearms against the cool stone railing, tilting his head to the side as he considered Roxy’s frustrated scolding of the candidates.

He glanced at Eggsy over his shoulder. “She was a talented swimmer, Olympic talented.”

Eggsy nodded and lowered himself to the ground, propping his back up against the hard balustrade. He kept his eyes fixed on the hard set of Harry’s jaw and the tension in his shoulders. Just as he prepared to urge Harry to continue, the older man cleared his throat.

“She’d gone to collect a book or a bag or something equally mundane from a friend’s house, so Merlin didn’t feel the need to track her as, obviously, he always did. She never made it more than a few metres from their front door.”

Harry lowered his eyes and focused on the rough stone. “She slipped on a patch of ice on the pathway by the river they lived next to and fell in, cracking her head open on the bank before she hit the water.” He swallowed past the lump that had worked its way into his throat, his voice rough as he continued, “She drowned. One of the strongest swimmers I’d ever seen – more at home in the water than out of it - and she drowned. It very nearly destroyed Merlin, as you can imagine.”

Eggsy, shocked into silence, could only nod. A thought suddenly occurred to him, but his tongue was far too heavy to form the words. 

Harry gauged his reaction and guessed his concern. “The first test was set by the higher ups, and they weren’t willing to change it after so many years of success, no matter what the circumstances were. Merlin refused to let anyone take his place, he figured that if he couldn’t get them change it he might as well stand guard to make sure none of you get hurt. You can’t imagine how angry he gets if a batch of you leave one behind. He hates the bloody thing, but he won’t say anything against administration.” 

Harry’s bitter laughed surprised Eggsy, “A Kingsman should be able to separate the private from the professional; the two can never interfere with each other.” 

Eggsy found his voice, albeit hoarse, “How can he watch that?”

Harry shook his head, “Merlin says it’s because he knows you aren’t in any real danger. He can drain the room again with a flick of his hand, but he doesn’t trust anyone else to oversee that test. No matter how upsetting it is for him, he won’t take the risk of placing that responsibility on any of the other knights.”

“What happens if something goes wrong?” Eggsy whispered, remembering Amelia’s prone body draped across the bedframe.

Harry took a breath to steady himself. “There is no possible way for anyone to get hurt during that test. You’re all given a heavy, nanorobotic sedative with dinner before you go to sleep. It’s activated the second it detects a drop in the oxygen levels in your blood. It stops you breathing, stops your heart for a short period of time, and for all intents and purposes you appear dead. The effects wear off quickly with no lingering problems. The entire environment is strictly controlled by Merlin. No one’s in any danger.”

Eggsy let his head fall back against the stone, “Is that why he’s so overprotective.”

Harry smiled sadly, “He insists on tracking everyone and everything, because the one time he didn’t, he lost the person most precious to him. It’s a nuisance at times, but we are all more than willing to indulge him.”

Eggsy struggled around the tight knot in his throat, “How long?”

“It’ll have been nine years tomorrow.”

The older man took a steadying breath and pushed himself back from the railing, his head turning to the side at the sound of Eggsy's voice. "What was her name?"

A small, sad smile tugged at the corner of Harry's lips. "Emily." 

Eggsy’s chin was resting on his raised knee as Harry gently patted his head and moved across the balcony to the stone steps, down into the training grounds below. Eggsy turned his head to watch Harry approach Roxy from the space between the railings, taking in her defensive stance as she prepared herself for what she assumed was another scolding.

Instead, he watched her face twist into confusion and her eyes widen as she shook her head in disbelief. As Harry raised a hand to her arm, she spun on her heel and jogged towards the mansion, taking the stairs two at a time and ignoring her superior calling after her. Eggsy sprang to his feet and quickly followed the sound of her footsteps through the mansion, just catching sight of her ponytail disappearing into Merlin’s office as he rounded the corner. 

He skidded to a halt at the door, frozen in place at the sight of Merlin and Roxy standing opposite one another, his stance defensive as though preparing for an attack, his wide eyes fixed on the young woman facing him with determination in the lines of her shoulders.

_Roxy’s next move was completely unexpected by either man._

She boldly strode forward and wrapped her arms around the older man’s waist, pressing her face against the rough wool of his cardigan and squeezing him tightly when he didn’t respond. Merlin snapped out of his shocked stupor and his arms slowly encased her in warmth as she breathed in the scent of gunmetal and cigar smoke that clung to the fabric beneath her cheek. 

Her voice was thick with tears as she whispered into his chest, “I’m sorry.”

His answer caught in his throat, so he simply nodded and lowered his cheek to rest atop the crown of her head, holding her tighter and blinking away the hot tears that pricked at his eyes.

Neither had noticed Eggsy and he suddenly felt guilty for intruding on their privacy. He quietly retreated from the doorway, creeping back along the hall with the intention of seeking Harry out.

_Better leave ‘em to it._


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Just for one night they could have this. Just for one night, they could forget they weren’t responsible for the world._
> 
>  
> 
> And so, sacred traditions were kept and loved ones were remembered and Merlin was once again struck with the knowledge that he wasn’t alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, trashbag here - so I spent the first ten minutes while writing this crying with laughter because Dido’s ‘White Flag’ came on my Spotify playlist and I couldn’t breathe, all I could do was raise my arms in the air and let the joy wash over me as my flatmate stared on in complete bewilderment. To make matters worse, the bit with Harry and Roxy was written to Van Morrison’s ‘Brown Eyed Girl,’ I just want you to keep in mind that Spotify has a weird sense of humour.

A terrible shiver wracked Eggsy’s entire body as he stepped out of the station and into the cold, highland air, Harry and Roxy hot on his heels after her altercation with the ticket barriers. He rubbed his hands together – wishing, and not for the first time - that he had thought to bring warmer gloves. He directed a jealous glance down at Harry’s hands wrapped in sturdy leather and fleece, and resigned himself to being half frozen. 

As they approached the taxi rank Eggsy surmised that he should be grateful that it wasn’t raining. He helped Roxy hoist her suitcase into the back along with his own, wondering again why Harry had only brought his briefcase. Mission accomplished – made significantly more difficult with two sets of frozen fingers – he slipped into the back of the taxi next to Harry, leaving Roxy to haul the door closed behind her and sighing with relief as the cold wind stopped biting at his nose.

He removed his gloves with his teeth and stretched his fingers out slowly - trying to force some feeling back into them - only to have Harry reach out with his now bare hands, wrap them around Eggsy’s fingers and pull them into the fleece-lined pocket of heat inside the breast of his heavy, woollen coat. Eggsy ignored Roxy’s quiet huff of laughter and shuffled closer to the older man, content in having his cold hands held in Harry’s warm ones. 

_Though a small part of him did suspect Harry of not warning him about the weather simply because the older man wanted the pleasure of warming Eggsy up again._

He rested his head against Harry’s shoulder and tucked himself against his side, feeling Roxy shift in the seat beside him. She drew her legs up under her body, and sifted through her satchel to find the second book she’d brought for the journey. Eggsy hadn’t thought far ahead and had ended up being bored out of his wits on the achingly long train ride from London to Glasgow. 

_Harry had immersed himself in a stack of newspapers, and had emphatically refused to play ‘I spy’ with him. Spoilsport._

Eggsy opted for a nap in favour of staring at the bleak, grey countryside as it swam past the window in a blur, suddenly shifting from tall stone buildings to open sky and an endless stretch of hills and fields and trees. 

He drifted off to the sound of Harry casually chatting with their driver, punctuated by Roxy’s careful turning of a page every so often. 

He awoke to Harry gently squeezing his shoulder and whispering in his ear, “We’ve arrived, Eggsy.” He yawned and arched his back, grinning as Roxy winced at the cracking sound and stretched his arms forward, popping his wrists. He turned at the loss of heat to his left and saw Harry sliding out of the taxi, flinching as the cold air invaded the pleasant heat of the car. 

As Eggsy steeled himself for another confrontation with the elements, Roxy and Harry had unloaded their luggage and were slowly picking their way along a narrow set of stone steps. Eggsy hurried to catch up with them, just about remembering his manners and thanking the driver. He paused as he reached the whitewashed fence at the base of the steps, and marvelled at the sight of Merlin’s little house as it rose from the juncture between the heather-dappled hillside and the riverbank.

The garden was a sight to behold. Even in the cold November wind, the wildflowers danced in their beds along the white-pebbled pathway, every plant and shrub meticulously well cared for. The eclectic collection of ornaments surprised Eggsy, in particular a rather surly looking gnome with glasses and a bald head glowered at him as he fished in a patch of heather. He was even wearing a checked Macintosh.

His laugh drew Harry’s attention and the older man grinned. “A birthday present!” he called down the path.

Eggsy grinned, shaking his head, and turned to glance over his shoulder as he heard the taxi starting off. He was suddenly struck by the sheer expanse of open space he was met with, the gaps in the valley offset by tiny mountains peaking in the distance. The only other time he’d ever seen so much sky was when he’d actually been in it, and he hadn’t really been in a position to enjoy the view. The river below them moved with the land, curving off to meet a collection of whitewashed and sandstone specks amongst the green, framed by a sturdy dock. Eggsy squinted and could just make out the brightly coloured fishing boats drifting in the harbour.

“Where are we?” he called back up to Harry.

The older man was helping Roxy haul her case up a particularly uneven step. “A few miles outside and across the bank from Dumbarton, what you’re looking at is the River Clyde.” He pointed at the water below. “The castle is on that outcrop.” He gestured for Eggsy to come and help Roxy unstick her wheel and turned his attention back to the blue wooden door.

He felt around the edge of the timber door frame for the small dip in the wood, grinning triumphantly as he withdrew his hand and slotted the heavy key into its, not terribly obliging, lock. It turned - though only following some, none too gentle, persuasion - and Harry gave the door a firm push near the edge. It creaked only slightly as it opened, and Harry realised that Merlin must have started paying someone to look after the house for him. He stepped over the threshold and motioned for the other two to follow.

The inside was exactly how Eggsy imagined it would be. 

They were welcomed by a solid, flagstone floor, sporadically covered with thick, mismatched rugs. The plush, leather chairs and sofa were similarly draped in patchwork throws, and every available surface was playing host to books of every conceivable age and size. 

The scent of wood smoke hung thickly in the crisp morning air, and Eggsy couldn’t tell if it was because someone had lit a fire elsewhere or that smell was so deeply engrained into the furniture in the room. 

Harry divested himself of his outer coat, scarf and hat, leaving them in a small pile draped across the back of one of the chairs. He moved across the floor and one by one, pulled open the heavy drapes, allowing the grey light to flood the room. 

A tall, stone fireplace took up most of one wall, its inner hearth wide enough for a grown man to stand in, and Eggsy was suddenly struck by the memory of sitting on his Aunt Kathy’s when he was younger, charring his toast and trading the burnt offerings for some that his mum had made.

As Harry approached it he noticed that it had by now been set, ready for lighting. He wasted no time in striking a match and piling on more logs, making a mental note to send Eggsy out later to collect some more wood from the shed. Satisfied that the fire would be roaring in no time, he rose from the hearth and turned to the younger two, who had already crowded behind him to get closer to the heat.

“Eggsy, I need you to check the water. You’ll have to turn the hot tap in the kitchen a few times before anything comes out, but just make sure that what does come out is actually clear, it’s always been a bit pernickety.” He glanced around the room, taking in the polished wooden surfaces and the distinct absence of the smell of damp or dust. “We won’t need to change any sheets or clean anything, I called ahead to the number Merlin gave me, so I assume he’s taken my advice and started paying someone to keep the place. The linen will be fresh, but I doubt there’s much in the way of food.”

As he spoke he made his way through the high wooden arch and down the stone step into the kitchen. The ceiling dipped considerably, lowered even further by the dark beams that held the weight of the upper floor. Harry began inspecting the cupboards and wasn’t surprised to find them totally bare. “Right,” he nodded. “Eggsy, you take the cases upstairs. The first room on the left is yours, Roxy. The next one on the right is the bathroom, and Eggsy I’ll need you to check the water there too, and the room beside is ours. Just leave your case on the bed and I’ll find somewhere for your things.”

Eggsy frowned, “Isn’t there a wardrobe or anythin’?”

Harry nodded absently as he inspected the contents of each drawer, lifting out the cutlery and holding it up to the light. “Yes, but it’s full of my clothes.”

_And that would be why he only brought his briefcase._

Harry deemed the state of the cutlery acceptable, replacing it and moving around the solid wooden table to the stable door at the back of the room. He peered out into the garden, grinning when he found the large mound covered in heavy blue tarp.

“Roxy?”

At the sound of her name Roxy turned from where she’d been examining some black and white portraits on the walls. “What can I do?”

Harry breezed past her back into the living room to collect his coat and scarf before returning to the kitchen and gesturing in the direction of the garden, “You and I will run into town and pick up some groceries.”

She approached him, brow furrowed. “The nearest town’s an awful long way off, are we walking?” As she spoke, Harry opened a long cupboard by the door and began to dig through its contents, pulling out a mop and bucket, a broom and a heavy rucksack. He placed the bag on the table and unzipped it, grinning as he pulled out two pristinely polished helmets and held one out to Roxy. “Walking in this weather? Perish the thought.”

Her confused expression remained as she glanced at Eggsy and found him shrugging at her. Harry pulled open the back door with as much force as he had pushed his way through the front and led them out into the garden.

It was kept just as well as the front had been, the large patio trimmed with wildflowers and bookended by a stone shed full of chopped wood on one side, and a hulking mass of tarpaulin weighted with heavy boulders on the other. Harry began moving the rocks out of the way, leaving the younger two to trade bewildered glances and stare after him as he pulled back the heavy blue material with a flourish.

_Eggsy’s bottom jaw dropped open when he caught sight of what lay underneath._

The glistening, cherry-red frame, offset by the blinding shine of chrome and a white leather seat had clearly been the pride and joy of Harry’s life for many years, if the expression on the older man’s face was anything to go by.

“Merlin helped me rebuild it,” he announced proudly as he ran his fingers along the soft leather. He turned to Eggsy and gestured for him to open the gate at the side of the house. Roxy grinned and hopped to Harry’s side, eagerly jabbering on about something called a ‘ _Bonneville_ ’ and asking things Eggsy couldn’t hope to keep up with, his mid being far too preoccupied the sudden resurgence of his numerous and extensive fantasies involving Harry Hart on a motorcycle. 

He ducked out of the way as Harry and Roxy wheeled past him, not even bothering to contest the fact that he was the one who had to stay behind and check for water sludge. He knew he wouldn’t have a hope in Hell of not popping a raging hard on if he was the one riding behind Harry.

_As it was, he was having a very difficult time trying to keep the blood from rushing south at the mere sight of Harry straddling the motorcycle._

Roxy swung her leg over the seat and settled in behind Harry, wrapping her arms securely around his waist and letting a delighted laugh escape as Harry kicked the bike to life underneath them. She tucked her ponytail into the back of her collar and donned the slightly ill-fitting helmet, flicking down the visor – but not before she gave Eggsy a wicked wink, and leaning forward to press herself against Harry’s back. 

Her laughter at Eggsy’s sour expression was drowned out by the powerful roar of the engine as Harry coaxed the bike down the cobbled drive and into the road below them. She barely had time to wave to Eggsy before Harry had surged forward, forcing her to cling to his waist as they sped off down to the road to the harbour town at the base of the valley, the engine below them purring at Harry’s familiar touch after having been left for so long.

The hills and hedgerows flew past them in a blur and it was all Roxy could do to throw back her head, relishing the sensation of speeding along the narrow road - feeling the wind surge through her open jacket and past her ears to tug her hair out from her collar - and dropping their bodies into the curve of every turn, springing back on the other side. She felt Harry’s back and stomach shake as he laughed unabashedly in response to her childish glee.

_It had been too long since the last time she’d felt this free._

Harry slowed to a crawl as they entered the outskirts of bustling little harbour town, raising his hand to wave at a few familiar faces and receiving enthusiastic grins and warm welcomes in return. The grey sky above them had parted to allow soft strands of sunlight to filter through the clouds and dapple the water, the reflections dancing along the undersides of the colourful little boats moored along the edge of the dock. They inched their way along the busy main street and came to a noisy halt at a small supermarket overlooking the harbour and river beyond. 

Harry killed the engine and removed his helmet, turning back to smile fondly at the young woman behind him as she struggled with the stubborn chin strap of Merlin’s helmet. He gracefully lifted one leg off the ground and swivelled to face her, gently tilting her head up to get a better look, and unhitching the buckle with practised ease.

“Sorry, that one’s always been a bit stiff.” He leant back and allowed her to remove the helmet and smooth down the hair that stuck to the inside.

_Merlin hadn’t had that problem in a long while._

He grinned at the openly joyful expression on her face, unused to seeing her so unguarded in front of him. Roxy Morton was the very picture of a respectful subordinate around her superiors, and he often envied how open and free she appeared to be around Merlin, but chalked it down to her having spent so much time around the other man.

Roxy huffed a giddy laugh as she placed the helmet in her lap and glanced up at the man in front of her, taken aback by his fond smile. “I haven’t ridden in a long time.” Harry nodded, his smile widening to dimple his cheeks. 

_So that’s what Eggsy was talking about._

“I could feel how well you moved into the corners, you’ve done this before.” Her eyes lit up at his praise and his own crinkled at the corners as he tilted his head and regarded hid young charge.

His attention was drawn to the open door of the shop as an elderly woman toddled into the doorway and called out to him with a frantic wave of her hand. “Bless me, Mr. Hart!”

He stood and manoeuvred himself off the bike, reaching forward to meet her arms and enveloping her in a warm embrace. As he pulled back he wasn’t quite quick enough to dodge her bony fingers catching his cheek in a pinch, though he remained perfectly obliging as she tugged on his skin and gave a toothy grin up at him. 

“Been a long time since we’ve had you round here, hen!” Harry laughed and stepped back to sweep and arm in Roxy’s direction. “Roxy come and say hello.”

Roxy smiled politely as Harry made the introductions while the old woman cooed at her, permitting her head to be patted and her face to be cupped. A quick glance to the side and she saw Harry trying not to delight in the shift of the woman’s attention. 

“Such a pretty wee thing, Mr. Hart, she yours?” Roxy smiled kindly and was about to correct her when she felt Harry’s arm wrap around her shoulder and pull her close. “She is.” Roxy stared up at him in a daze as he smiled warmly back at her.

The woman in front of them clapped her hands together, startling Roxy’s attention back to her. “Oh you must be so proud, Mr. Hart.” Roxy’s lips turned up into a genuinely pleased grin, and she ducked her head as Harry squeezed her shoulder. “I am, Mrs. Mclean, I really am.”

Harry withdrew and held his arm out for the elderly shopkeeper to lean on, glancing over his shoulder to grin at Roxy with a devilish twinkle in his soft eyes. “Roxy, love, chain that to the railing would you? There’s one underneath the seat.”

Roxy returned his grin with a wink, “Sure thing, Dad.” She watched as Harry walked the woman to her shop, returning her happy chatter with an indulging smile. They disappeared through the door way and Roxy took a moment to admire the pretty stone buildings around her as the sun finally broke fully through the clouds to bathe the town in warm light that softened the bite of the wind as it came off the water. She turned to fish the heavy chain out of Harry’s seat and carefully wrapped it around the frame and railings, clicking the lock into place and rocking back on her heels just in time to glance up and catch the eye of another friendly shopkeeper leaning against a low stone wall. She returned their wave politely and darted into the shop to find Harry already dividing food between cardboard boxes and a wicker hamper. He glanced to the side and addressed her feet, “They’ll send the rest up later, but I’m sure Eggsy’s ready to start chewing the table by now.” He packed cold meat around a loaf of bread and a block of cheese, pushing the apples out of the way to make room for a carton of milk and a small box of tea. She spied the sugar and digestives hidden under the fruit and smirked.

_Of course._

Harry stood and handed a fistful of purple notes to the woman beaming behind the counter, calling out a greeting to the younger man that appeared from the back to collect the boxes. 

He placed a hand at the small of Roxy’s back and urged her towards the door again, bidding farewell to the elderly woman as she waved them both off. Once outside he took a deep breath of fresh air and squinted up at the sky, retrieving his amber-tinted sunglasses. Roxy followed suit and together they began to walk along the water front.

Harry paused outside a café on the corner and turned to the young woman beside him. “Fancy a cup of tea before we head back?” Roxy grinned as she nodded, “Might as well give Eggsy time to do what he was actually asked to.” Harry’s bark of laughter drew a similar sound from her as they ducked into the doorway and claimed a table by the low window. 

Roxy accepted the warm mug of tea as it was handed to her, taking a grateful sip and settling back into her chair as Harry practically emptied the little metal dish of sugar sachets in an effort to adequately sweeten his tea. He seemed to be content after six and mirrored her action of sinking back into the plush fabric.

She waited for him to settle before she spoke. “Sir, what time is Merlin supposed to be here?” 

“Harry,” he corrected her without glancing up from the paper spread across his lap. 

Her brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

His eyes darted up to meet hers and his face relaxed into a warm smile, “It’s Harry, Roxy.”

Oh. She grinned. “Any particular reason why, _Harry?_ ” 

He folded the paper carefully and answered her sly grin with a smirk of his own. “I believe that I have you, as well as Merlin, to thank for my current happiness. Merlin told me the hotel room was your idea.”

She grinned unabashedly. “I accept full responsibility for that, yes.” 

His face softened as he thanked her sincerely, “I am in your debt.”

She considered this for a moment. “If you can get Merlin to give me next weekend off then I’ll call us even.”

Harry laughed, “I’ll see what I can do.”

She grinned and sipped her tea, remembering her initial question. “So when is Merlin getting here? I thought he left London last night.”

Harry’s face fell as he turned to watch the bustling harbour through the window. “He left early yesterday evening, but he usually spends today with Carol, his ex-wife. They’ll visit the grave together in Glasgow and he’ll make his way up here afterwards.” 

Roxy nodded thoughtfully before frowning and narrowing her eyes with suspicion, “He does know you aren’t going to be the only one waiting for him, doesn’t he?”

Harry’s sheepish grin told her all she needed to know. She sighed, “How well will he react to that?”

Harry shrugged and raised his cup. “He needs to know he isn’t alone,” he stated simply, staring into the pale brown liquid in his cup.

Roxy smiled softly as she considered his words.

_You really love him, don’t you?_

They finished their tea as the sky began to cloud over again. Harry carefully strapped the hamper to the back of the motorcycle, instructing Roxy to keep one hand on it. As they sped off towards the house again she felt Harry securely grab onto the other arm she had wrapped around his waist, keeping her steady. He took the corners much slower this time, holding onto her tightly and calling back every so often to make sure she was alright. 

They pulled into the driveway as Eggsy was hauling brown sludge bucket number four out the front door and emptying it down the drain at the side of the building. He raised a hand to wave as he caught sight of them rounding the corner, determined to memorise the image of Harry’s trousers clinging to his bum as he dismounted the motorcycle with as much grace as he did everything else. 

He ignored Roxy’s exasperated look and stared unashamedly at said bum as it bent over the back of the bike to undo the straps holding the hamper in place. It was only when Harry called for him to help that he realised he was half hard in his jeans, though thankfully the long cut of his coat spared him any taunting from Roxy.

He hefted the hamper into his arms and followed Harry through to the kitchen, standing back and watching bemusedly as the older man insisted on packing everything away in its proper place. He felt Roxy come to a stop behind him and turned to find her smiling just as fondly at Harry.

_When did that happen?_

The older man, finally satisfied that he’d found a place for everything, ushered the younger two out of the kitchen and in to the living room, emerging after a few minutes with sandwiches and tea balanced precariously on a silver tray. They gathered around the fireside and listened for the sound of Merlin’s car pulling up outside. Roxy perched right on the hearth – book in hand - turning occasionally to warm her back, while Eggsy lay sprawled across one of the sofas Harry had dragged closer to the fire, his feet in the older man’s lap and his head cushioned by ridiculously soft pillows.

He must have fallen asleep, for when he next opened his eyes he found that it was considerably darker than it had been when he closed them. He rolled to the side, catching sight of Roxy dosing against one of the chairs and wrapped in a dark purple blanket. When he tried to sit upright he found that he was similarly confined, and he pushed the soft material to the side, searching the room for Harry.

He caught sight of the older man standing next to one of the windows, his relieved face illuminated by someone’s headlights shining in through the glass. Eggsy lifted himself off the sofa, stretching and wincing as he felt something in his back protest.

_Shouldn’t have napped for so long._

The crack drew Harry’s attention in his direction, and the older man raised a finger to his lips before whispering, “Merlin’s here.” He nodded to the young woman as she sat with head pillowed on the arm of the chair. “Wake her, gently, would you?”

Eggsy squeezed Roxy’s shoulder and gave her a soft shake, grateful that she was a light sleeper. As she blinked herself awake they both heard an irate grumbling drifting in through the open window.

“Just like him to leave me no space to park.”

Roxy grinned as she recognised Merlin’s voice, darting into the kitchen to put the kettle on and find something for the man to eat. The other two listened to him struggling with Harry’s heavy motorcycle, stepping back from the door as they heard his car inching forwards into the drive. 

The metal door slammed shut as Merlin kicked it with his foot and fumbled with his bags. He glanced up to see the garden lit by the soft glow of the lamplight coming from inside and heaved a thankful sigh when he saw the smoke floating up from the chimney into the cool evening air. No doubt there’d be a cup of tea waiting for him inside.

_Leave it to Harry to know just what he needed._

He resolved to forgive his friend for taking up so much space in the drive and collected the bags in hand again, lumbering tiredly towards his house. He trusted Harry to have left the door open for him, so he nudged the latch with his elbow – listening for the click - and pushed his way in with his foot. 

He dropped his bags inside, not only because he was exhausted – and he was _utterly drained_ – but because there were two people waiting to greet him in his living room, instead of the expected one.

 _Make that three_ , he thought, as another emerged from the kitchen with a mug in her hands.

He turned to glance at Harry, confusion evident in the tired lines of his face. Without hesitation the other man strode forward and cocooned him in his arms. Merlin’s hands came up to grasp the back of Harry’s shirt as he dropped his head to rest on his friend’s shoulder - drawing comfort from the familiar warmth of his embrace – and the two stood together in the doorway. 

Eggsy considered the picture they made, and realised that for all the love they obviously had for each other he’d never actually seen them express it physically, at least not while both were conscious. He supposed that this might simply be because they were both very private men, an acceptance that forced him to look away. His eyes found Roxy - who appeared to have no such reservations – as she stared, unblinking, at the two older men. 

When Merlin withdrew from Harry’s arms and coughed to clear the tight lump in his throat – and trying very hard to keep his fragile self together - Roxy stepped up to take Harry’s place, handing Merlin the steaming, white mug - closing her hands over his as he reached out to take it - and rocking forward on her tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. Merlin swallowed around his chocked sob, breathing heavily through his nose and managed a jerky nod of his head before his eyes snapped up to catch Eggsy moving across the room.

_Because fuck if he wasn’t getting in on this._

Eggsy snatched the mug from Merlin’s hands and hastily placed it down on the table nearby – because it was fucking hot and why didn’t he think that through? – before taking advantage of the older man’s surprise, and thrusting his hands inside his heavy coat. He wormed his way into the warmth of the other man’s arms, reaching back to tug Merlin’s around him, the older man obeying without question.

_It was the selfless and unrestrained love in Eggsy’s touch that brought the first tears to his eyes._

He had been numb, standing over his daughter’s grave, the act more ritual than remembrance. His daughter wasn’t in the coffin, nor was she in the polished, grey stone that marked its place. She wasn’t in the plaque they had erected by the river, or the little flower pot in the local churchyard. 

His precious girl was at home, with him. She was in the hundreds of pictures he’d found and framed and covered every wall in. She was in the horrendously misshapen cup she’d given him for a birthday long ago - the same birthday, in fact, on which he’d received the terribly ugly little garden gnome that was Harry’s idea of joke and that Merlin displayed proudly in the garden just to spite him. She was in the stories he told Harry, and in the ones he received in return, for Harry had often cared for her when Merlin was needed elsewhere. 

As Eggsy burrowed into his coat Merlin let himself cry for the first time that day. This was mourning - not staring at a name carved into a slab of stone with a woman he only spoke to once a year - but this, drawing strength from the people he cared for most dearly.

Eggsy felt Merlin’s chest tremor and his breath hitch as he tried and failed to control himself, and he held him tighter in response, only slightly startled by Roxy’s arms reaching around from behind Merlin as she clung to his back. 

“Oh, what the Hell.” The quiet muttering was the only sign of warning they had before Harry swooped in from the side to wrap his long arms around all three of them. Merlin breathed a shaky laugh as he tried to gently push Eggsy back - feeling more settled than he had all day - only to be met with some resistance.

“Nah, mate. Not ‘till I know you’re okay.”

Merlin’s voice wavered only slightly. “I’m fine, Eggsy.”

“Sure?” The younger man peeked up at him from where his face was squished against his jumper.

Merlin gave a definite nod, face breaking into a fond smile. “I’m sure.” 

Eggsy seemed satisfied, and he pulled back at the same time Roxy did – both retreating to give Merlin some space. Harry remained by his side, one hand clasping his shoulder firmly. Merlin reached up to lay his own hand over Harry’s and squeezed before moving to lift his mug from the table. He had brought it to his lips and taken a sip before he realised that it wasn’t tea.

_Really?_

“Hot cocoa, Roxy?” He inquired with a raised eyebrow.

The young woman in question grinned. “There’s a sandwich in the kitchen for you, tuna and coleslaw.”

He glanced sidelong at a delighted-looking Harry. “My favourite.”

_Cheeky bastard._

They sat with Merlin as ate, insisting on using a tea tray and threatening the younger two with unspeakable punishment if he found they’d gotten crumbs on his furniture. He had just drained his mug of cocoa – frowning at the syrup-like deposit at the bottom – when he happened to glance outside and see that the wind had almost completely died down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry and Eggsy engaged in a heated debate over who would venture outside to get more firewood, with Roxy ignoring them in favour of her book. 

He stood, lifting a hand in response to the flash of concern that crossed Harry’s expression, and approached the younger woman, settling a hand on her shoulder to gently rouse her from her focus on the pages. Hey eyes darted up to meet his.

“It’s a nice enough walk by the river when the wind’s calm.” The question went unasked, but she agreed all the same and went to fetch her coat. She met him hallway down the garden path, glancing back in time to see an exasperated Harry pulling a frightfully concerned Eggsy by the collar and away from the window. She turned back to face Merlin as she heard his snort, “Nosy wee bugger.”

They climbed the steps down into the road and set off in the direction of the harbour. She smiled as Merlin instinctively placed himself on the outside, nearest the water, and linked his arm with hers. 

Her eyes were drawn to the harbour lights in the distance as their twinkling reflections danced across the water. The harbour bar had opened its doors onto the street, painting the stone docks with glistening silver tables, its patrons weaving their way around them as they danced and sang. The boats occupied were lit with tiny lanterns as their owners settled in after a long day for a well-deserved pint. 

The water was almost completely still - a rare occurrence to be treasured in the middle of November – and its glassy surface reflected the changing light as the sun descended over the hills at the west of the valley, the moon rising up in the east to take its place. The two made peace in the centre of the sky, a vibrant palette of purple and yellow and pink and blue. 

The walked in silence until the house was swallowed by the hillside and Roxy could no longer glimpse it over her shoulder. 

Merlin suddenly tugged her towards the riverbank, lowering himself onto a concrete outcrop and guiding her down to sit next to him, and wrapping his arm around her like it belonged there. “Emily used to drag me here when she wanted to talk.”

Roxy waited for him to continue. “The world’s gone to shit, but then you already knew that.”

She smiled sadly, and nodded. “That’s one word for it.” After a brief silence she glanced at the man beside her and whispered, fearing she already knew the answer, “How bad is it, really?”

Merlin stared out across the water, tilting his chin up as he answered, resolute, “We’re falling apart at the seams. I’ve half a mind to knight the remaining recruits and be done with it, we’ll add positions if needs be. We need knights in the field, desperately.” 

Roxy sat, unflinching, as the grave truth was revealed. 

“Those men that Kay was feeding intel to, they weren’t just developing a mind control collar.” He took a steadying breath, “They were gathering video evidence of Valentine.”

Roxy’s voice wavered as she hesitantly asked, “Video evidence of what?”

“They have footage of him meeting with every major leader, social and political, before V-Day. Every major leader that is, incidentally, now dead.”

“ _Fuck me_ ,” Roxy breathed.

Merlin’s free hand began to shake as his voice became strained, “That’s not the worst of it. They have footage of Harry.”

Roxy stiffened. “From the church?”

Merlin nodded, torn between the desire to solve it all himself – leaving the others unburdened – and tell the young woman beside him the truth. 

_Christ, she deserved that at least._

“The security footage was closed circuit, and Valentine encrypted the feed himself. That was wiped. But Harry’s glasses - the feed that Kay intercepted – caught everything. There was a mirror, at the church. Just along the back wall, Harry’s glasses caught his reflection as he left.”

Roxy was finding it very difficult to remember how to breathe, shivering as she was in the cool, evening air. “I thought Harry took the laptop,” her voice left her in a quiet, horrified whisper.

Merlin gave a pained sigh. “They missed something, there was a case of discs – _and come on, who even uses fucking CDs anymore?_ They had everything on them. Naturally the bodies were found by the appropriate authorities, and they found the footage too.”

“Why haven’t we heard about this yet?”

“Because it only happened two days ago and I am calling in every _bloody_ favour I’m owed under the sun and bargaining my arse off to keep from going public, even though it fucking will. I’ve been told that much; someone copied the footage and intends to sell it,” he growled.

“Maybe it isn’t as bad as all that.”

His eyes snapped up to meet hers. “Are you _mad?_ ”

Roxy took a deep breath and angled her body to face him. “Valentine didn’t actually say anything about Kingsman when he spoke to Harry outside the church. He never even mentioned Harry’s name.”

Merlin was silent beside her, his expression unerringly grim in the fading light. 

She continued, determined, “No one would know who Harry was, he’d be a brave man who died trying to stop a monster.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that the face of a very much alive man will be plastered over every front-page and breaking news segment in the world. And that’s when people will start asking questions.” He lowered his forehead to rest against his palm and whispered to the water below, “I fucking hate it when people ask questions.”

She reached her own arm around his back and squeezed, dropping her head to rest on his shoulder, “Are you going to tell Harry?”

Merlin sighed, fishing in his pockets for a cigarette he knew he wouldn’t find. “Let the man enjoy his peace before it’s too late.”

The silence stretched between them as the sun finally shrank behind the ridges to their left, its waning light ushering in the cool, dark night. 

The sound of Roxy’s voice startled Merlin from his bleak thoughts. “Eric was in love with my mother before she married my father and had me.”

He glanced down at the top of her head as it lay propped up by his shoulder. “When he left, Eric was suddenly there. He was perfectly respectful, of course, an absolute gentleman. He never once tried to pursue her, he simply stayed out of love and a strange sense of friendship. My mother told him she didn’t feel the same, but he assured her it was fine. He only wanted to be there for her, as a friend, and he truly meant it.”

She began to fiddle with the ring she wore on the right index finger, a habit Merlin had seen her develop over the last few months. “He never could quite grasp what to do with me, though. And when she died, he accepted me like I was his responsibility…like I was his. But suddenly he’s Percival and he’s a Kingsman and everything gets a lot more complicated and I can see he’s trying so hard to make up for something- I’m just not sure what it is. I’m not even sure he knows himself.”

Merlin gave a noncommittal huff in the back of his throat and lifted his hand to smooth down her hair as the wind tried to catch it gently. Roxy took another deep, steadying breath and turned her face further into the older man’s body. “I don’t need a father.” Merlin’s hand stilled. “I’ve managed perfectly well without one. But I think- I mean I’d like- I don’t know…perhaps an uncle?” 

_Merlin’s heart was fit to burst as he realised what she was trying to do._

He held her tighter and pressed his face to the crown of her head, smiling into her hair. 

“That, I think, I can do.”

With that, all that needed to be said had been said, and the two sat for only a few moments longer, listening to the soft music the drifted across the river from the docks. Then Merlin carefully stood and pulled Roxy to her feet, offering his arm once more and leading her back to the house. They entered just as Harry was hauling the last basket of wood in from the garden, having lost whatever bet he had made with Eggsy. 

As Merlin lowered himself into his favourite chair, Harry promptly hauled him out of it, declaring that he needed help with the dinner. Merlin smiled as he was forced into the kitchen, stopping to grab the younger two and stepping back to allow Harry the honour of designating jobs. 

_The man was a whirlwind in the kitchen._

Eggsy was deemed safe enough to lay the table, a task that he quickly completed before setting his mind to annoy everyone else in the room. He’d just been chased away by Roxy for a third time when she turned to Harry as he measured a cup of flour. 

“Do you want these in the pot, Harry?”

 _Huh_ , Eggsy frowned, _that’s new._

He cornered her as she began chopping the vegetables, leaning casually against the counter. “Since when do you call Harry, _Harry?_ ”

“Since he thanked me for helping Merlin set the two of you up. He’s apparently forgiven me for the hotel room fiasco.”

Eggsy snapped his fingers and shook his head with a laugh. “I knew you had somethin’ to do with it.”

“Merlin’s idea was to have your clothes misplaced so you’d have to wear Harry’s. I much preferred mine.”

“Losing my clothes, what would that have done?”

“Men love to see their partners wearing their clothes.” At his incredulous look she sighed. “Come on, Eggsy, haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to wear Harrys, or have him wear yours?” His eyebrows rose high toward his hairline and she considered her question before blanching at the image her mind conjured. “No. Well- no, Harry doesn’t strike me as the type to suit Reeboks. But you in his shirts? Serious turn on, trust me.” 

Eggsy laughed and was about to point out that the shirts he wore were already similar to Harry’s, but then he considered Harry in one of his own tight, black vests. _Oh, oh yes. He could see the appeal now._

She grinned at the dazed expression on his face and raised a carrot as if to say, ‘See?’

Harry executed the preparation of dinner as skilfully as he did everything else, only slightly distracted by Eggsy’s insistent clinging to his back as he tried to move from the stove to the counter and back again. The younger man fancied it a fine game, regardless of how much it inconvenienced Harry. They sat down together as Merlin’s head reappeared from the cupboard, grinning triumphantly, scotch securely in his hand. Harry frowned. “Are we continuing the tradition this year?”

Merlin shrugged, “Why wouldn’t we?” It seemed to be reason enough for Harry, who promptly fished two more glasses out of the cupboard. 

Roxy glanced between the two older men, brow furrowed. “What tradition is this?”

Merlin leaned back in his chair, grinning as Harry passed him his glass. “Every year Harry and I get royally fucked, reminisce about the good old days and then refuse to mention said good old days for at least another year.” Harry grunted in agreement as he poured the amber liquid into the other glasses. 

Roxy turned to meet Merlin’s gaze, and he shook his head with a smile.

_Just for one night they could have this. Just for one night, they could forget they weren’t responsible for the world._

And so, sacred traditions were kept and loved ones were remembered and Merlin was once again struck with the knowledge that he wasn’t alone. 

_Though he was very, very drunk._


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he watched himself leave the church, he was struck by the sickening realisation that he had missed something on previous viewings. For a fraction of a second he had glanced at his bloodied reflection in the mirror. For a fraction of a second he had revealed his face to the world.
> 
> _They knew who he was._

Eggsy slowly became aware that he was pressed firmly against the side of someone long and warm and wrapped up in a blanket that tickled his nose. He snuggled closer to the warm body - content to surrender to sleep as it tugged at the edges of his consciousness - and pillowed his head on their chest, breathing in the … _unfamiliar scent._

He cracked open one eyelid, only to snap it shut against the intrusion of the blinding light against his sensitive eyes and _Christ, what a headache._

“’Arry? That you?” he croaked.

“No,” came the muffled, irate grumbling from somewhere above the blanket.

“My bad.”

He shifted backwards, bereft at having to withdraw at all, only to have Merlin’s arm enclose tightly around his waist, keeping him firmly in place.

“You’re warm and I’m cold, so shut up and stay put.”

_Not gonna argue with that._

As Eggsy settled back down he became aware of the sounds of other people moving about the kitchen, the sharp sounds of cutlery being placed on the table and glasses clinking together. He recognised Roxy’s chipper voice as she idly chatted with Harry.

_Figures, Miss Roxy fucking Morton doesn’t get hungover._

Eggsy felt someone insistently tugging on the corners of his blanket and he rolled slightly to the side to kick them away. He yelped when Roxy placed her cold hands on the warm skin of his back.

“Fuck, Rox!”

“Breakfast’s ready, you lazy bugger. Both of you,” she tapped Merlin’s side with her foot, “get up, or we’ll throw it out.”

Merlin groaned as he lifted an arm to shield his face, peeking out from under his sleeve to peer at her suspiciously with narrowed eyes, “What is it?”

“Bacon,” called Harry from the kitchen, “and eggs if I could only get the pan to cooperate.” A loud clatter was followed by a dull thump and the sound of Harry’s hissing as he swore vengeance on the hob.

The offering of bacon had both men scrambling to extract themselves from the blanket, resolutely ignoring Roxy’s quiet laughter at the sight they made. They stumbled into the kitchen and collapsed into chairs at the table. Roxy grinned and patted Eggsy’s head fondly, handing him a strong cup of tea, before returning to the table with Merlin’s coffee and dropping a kiss to his forehead. The older man squeezed her hand as she passed him his mug, and he inhaled the rich scent before taking a cautious sip and sinking back into his chair, humming with pleasure as the taste coated his tongue. He allowed his eyes to slip closed as he listened to Harry cursing at his stove. 

Their peaceful breakfast was interrupted by an insistent chirping coming from Merlin’s iPad. He left the other three seated at the table and wandered back into the living room to fetch it, immensely proud with himself for not tripping over - or bumping into - anything.

He fished the leather case from his rucksack and – blinking away his sudden dizziness – fell back onto the sofa with a grunt. He concentrated on entering his password accurately and was greeted by the side of David’s alarmingly worried face – a sight that brought him to full attention.

“Sir?” The man’s voice wavered as he nodded at Merlin’s shoulder, over which could be seen the kitchen door and its occupants still enjoying their morning.

Merlin glanced back and caught Harry’s eye, gesturing to the tablet in front of him and receiving a nod in return. He rose from the sofa and made his way to the stairs, taking them two at a time and instantly regretting it as his stomach lurched when he reached the landing. He managed to compose himself for long enough to fall down onto his own bed. 

Merlin listened carefully for the sounds of the people in the kitchen.

_Still there. Good,_

He turned his attention back to the man on his screen.

_Christ, let me be wrong._

“Please, for the love of God, don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me.”

David paused and began to worry his lips between his teeth, his eyes flickering to some screen Merlin couldn’t see and back again. “You were right, Sir.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Merlin gave a shaky breath and steeled himself.

_I need to hear it._

Merlin’s tongue struggled to form the words. “Say it, Excalibur, tell me exactly what’s happened.”

“The footage of Arthur’s altercation with the Southglade Mission congregation has been leaked to the public from an unknown source – one that we are currently doing everything we can to pinpoint.”

_Fuck. Bloody buggering fuck._

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to control his oncoming migraine. “What’s the extent of the damage?”

David straightened in his chair and scanned a screen to his right, listing off headlines and breaking-news bulletins. “They’re hailing Arthur as a martyr, Sir. One recurring question seems to be asking who their saviour is.”

_Saviour?_

“Is that what they’re calling him?”

David nodded absently as he focused on the newspaper clippings scattered across his desk. “Indeed, Sir. His face is on every front page from here to Istanbul, albeit in very poor quality. The damage has been done, Sir, but I think – if I’m not being too bold – it could have been a lot worse.”

Merlin lifted his head and gazed in the direction of the stairs, his sensitive ears catching the warmth of Harry’s low chuckle beneath Eggsy’s squawk of indignation. 

“How much did the footage that was aired show?”

David’s eyes flickered back and forth again. “It’s a five minute clip, beginning with Arthur’s first shot and ending with Valentine’s.”

_They caught his confession, then._

“So they know who’s responsible?”

David nodded gravely.

“And how are they taking it?”

David cleared his throat and gave an almost imperceptible shrug, “Very well, all things considered. We seem to have underestimated humanity’s sense of togetherness; they’ve united behind having someone to blame for the attacks.” He paused, scanning a file on another screen and frowned. “There are, naturally, several more fanatical groups emerging that are hailing Valentine as a saint, but the majority have latched onto the idea that he kidnapped and killed the world leaders who refused to follow his plans. They believe that those who are left are alive because they escaped before he could get to them.” He turned back to face Merlin. “I’ve already taken the liberty of contacting them to ensure their corroboration of this version of events, I felt that it would be the most prudent course of action given the fragile state of order at present.”

Merlin hummed and nodded absently, the gears in his mind already turning over the sobering thought of telling Harry. “Quite right, yes. Well done, Excalibur.”

David narrowed his eyes at the distracted tone of his superior’s voice. “Sir?” He paused, speaking softly as he urged, “Arthur must be informed.”

Merlin placed the tablet on the sheets beside him and removed his glasses, rubbing the corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and trying – with little success – to will away his pounding headache. “I know, David.” He sighed and nodded once to himself, already resolved. Picking up the iPad again he opened his browser and searched for the video. “Send the jet to the airfield and get us clearance, we’ll leave within the hour.”

“Very good, Sir.” With that, David’s sombre face disappeared and Merlin was left staring down at a half loaded video clip: _The Real James Bond vs Richmond Valentine._ _Fuck._

On unsteady legs he made his way back down the stairs, tightly gripping the bannister for support. When he appeared at the kitchen door he drank in the sight of Harry’s easy smile and doting expression as he watched Roxy scold Eggsy for eating all the bacon fat, and loathed the thought of being the one to take that from him.

Harry’s eyes caught his and the other man frowned, starting to lift himself from his seat before he was stopped by Merlin’s raised hand. “Harry-” Merlin broke off with a lost look to Roxy, who was instantly at Harry’s back, gripping the older man’s shoulder in a silent gesture of support and comfort. 

The worried crease in Harry’s brow deepened as Merlin approached him, iPad held out in one hand. Harry halted in reaching for it as the other man spoke. “Kay fed them the feed from the church, and it was leaked to the public.”

With a heavy knot settling low in his stomach, Harry closed the distance between his fingers and the tablet, turning its screen to face him and stiffening when he read the video’s caption. His eyes darted up to catch the stricken expression on Merlin’s face as his friend lowered his eyes to the table. Eggsy glanced back and forth between the three of them, eyes wide with worry. A sharp look from Roxy silenced any protest he might have made.

Harry focused on breathing slowly through his nose as he hesitantly tapped play. 

He’d seen the footage before, of course - at his own request and in spite of Merlin’s strict warning. His loss of control had plagued his dreams for countless nights, until the discovery was made that Eggsy’s presence seemed to keep his nightmares at bay. Even before their revelation in Paris, the young man had taken to sleeping beside Harry, allowing the older man to draw comfort from the warmth of another.

As the at the bottom of the screen slowly filled grey with red, Harry felt an odd churning in his stomach that had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the alarmingly large number in the right hand corner. 

_Over three million in one night._

As he watched himself leave the church, he was struck by the sickening realisation that he had missed something on previous viewings. For a fraction of a second he had glanced at his bloodied reflection in the mirror. For a fraction of a second he had revealed his face to the world.

_They knew who he was._

He was out of his seat and staggering to the sink before Valentine had finished revealing his plan. He felt a familiar roll in his stomach and a tightness in his throat as he pushed his chair away, forcing Roxy to dart back as it clattered to the floor. He barely made it to the sink before he emptied his stomach into the porcelain basin, heaving and choking until there was nothing left but a foul taste in his mouth and a sharp sting in his eyes. 

Over the roaring in his ears and the harsh rasp of his own heavy breathing, Harry faintly heard the sound of Merlin trying to reassure him. He felt Roxy’s cool hands on the back of his neck and Eggsy’s firm grip on his arms as he was pulled away from the sink.

He allowed himself to be led back to the table, and gratefully accepted the glass of water that was pushed into his hands - though by who he couldn’t say. Eggsy was pressed against his side, fretting and murmuring and pressing soft kisses to his brow and cheek, voice steadily rising as he accused Merlin and Roxy.

Harry summoned all his strength and reached out to grip Eggsy’s hand in his, shaking his head and screwing his eyes shut.

_Breathe. In. Out. In. Out._

_One. Two. Three._

Eggsy’s anger dissolved at Harry’s pained expression and he pressed his face into the older man’s hair again, gently kissing his forehead and rubbing his back as Harry took deep, steady breaths to try and calm his racing pulse. 

_Four. Five. Six._

He glanced up to Merlin’s worried face peering at him, and soothed his aching throat with a sip of water. “When are we leaving?”

Merlin’s expression of concern shifted as he assumed control of the situation, darting up from his chair and tapping away at his tablet, internally cataloguing all that would need to be done. He called to them from the living room, “With any luck, Excalibur will have already secured clearance.”

Eggsy’s uneasy face appeared in the doorway as he hissed at the older man. “Clearance? We can’t go to the airport, you’ve seen how many hits that thing’s got!” He jabbed his finger at Merlin’s iPad.

Merlin sighed and began stuffing the contents of his rucksack back in its place, calling out to Roxy to begin packing their things. The young woman quickly disappeared up the stairs as he turned to face Eggsy. “We aren’t going to the airport, Eggsy, there’s a private airfield three miles from here.”

Eggsy frowned. “Then why do we need clearance?”

“Because you can’t go flying around in British airspace willy-nilly, especially now.” The answer seemed to satisfy the younger man and he gave a terse nod before vanishing back into the kitchen. Merlin could just make out the sound of him softly reassuring Harry as the man insisted with a croak that he was alright.

True to Merlin’s word they were packed up and in the car within the hour, Roxy taking the passenger seat beside Merlin so that Harry could slouch next to Eggsy in the back. Eggsy gripped his hands tightly, fretting over the other man’s silence as he stared through the window and resolutely ignored the other passengers. 

Harry hadn’t spoken a word as they sped along the narrow country lanes. He was silent as they boarded the Kingsman jet, completely focused on the world on the other side of the window. He waved off Eggsy and Roxy’s attempts to draw him into conversation without a word. 

When they landed at the manor he leapt from his seat and acknowledged Merlin’s request to convene the other knights with a nod, before hurriedly disembarking and marching to the shuttle bay. 

Throughout the debriefing he spoke only when directly addressed, barely listening to the other knights as they bickered amongst themselves about what was to be done, staring resolutely at his reflection in the polished wooden table. His eyes flickered back and forth between the other knights, jaw clenched and lips pursed as the voices around him rose. Several knights jumped up from their chairs in a fit of rage, gesturing wildly and all but shouting at each other. As Percival and Ector’s heated debate dissolved into petty name-calling, Eggsy saw something in Harry snap.

_“Enough!”_

His bellow silenced the room immediately, its occupants – both physical and projected – frozen in place with arms still held aloft, gingerly lowered them to their sides and looked suitably cowed in the face of Arthur’s anger. 

“Bloody disgraceful, all of you!” He spat as he rose from his chair. He leaned forward, bracing his weight on his knuckles and fixed each of them with a harsh glare. “Need I remind you of what you are?”

Several gazes lowered - faces downturned in shame – while others murmured quiet apologies. Percival’s projection met Ector’s eyes across the table and they each gave a shallow, stiff bow.

Satisfied that he had their attention, Harry took a steadying breath and addressed his sulking knights. “This changes nothing. Ector,” the knight in question snapped to attention, “you’ll still be flying to Milan tomorrow. Agrivaine will accompany you.” Both men nodded and took that as a sign of their dismissal, Agrivaine’s projection signing off with a respectful bow to Harry and a nod to Ector. Ector stepped back from the table, catching Merlin’s eye as he left the room and closed the heavy wooden doors behind him. 

One by one, Harry dismissed his knights, assuring them that their prior assignments would not be affected by this new revelation. He ushered Eggsy and Roxy from the room after the others had left, begging a moment of privacy with Merlin.

The two younger agents flitted hopelessly around the shop, fiddling with displays and driving David to distraction for over an hour before Harry emerged from his office with Merlin in tow. They bid each other goodnight and Harry turned to leave the shop, knowing that Eggsy would follow, and trusting the younger man not to comment on the fact that his hand hesitated above the handle before he opened the door and stepped out into the street.

Eggsy shuffled along behind him, glancing back and flashing a reassuring smile that fell totally flat, judging by the answering grimace Roxy gave. He slid into the back of the taxi beside Harry and was swallowed up by the silence again, although he took great comfort in Harry’s hand seeking his out and holding on tightly as they headed for home.

_But it didn’t stop his stomach churning with worry._

Harry was quiet all the way through dinner, only breaking his silence to briefly assure Michelle that he was well enough, if a little tired. Eggsy watched his mother’s face twist when Harry looked away, and he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze when the other man left the room with Sophie in his arms.

Michelle caught Eggsy’s arm as he made to follow Harry, shaking her head softly and motioning for him to help her with the dishes instead. 

_Eggsy marvelled at his mum’s good sense, she always knew how to handle people._

Harry lacked his usual enthusiasm when reading to Sophie that night, and though the little girl was keenly feeling the loss of the different voices the man normally put on when he read to her, she was more than happy to have her big, soft _‘Awry_ back in her arms again - even if he did seem very, very sad.

JB was likewise picking up on the anxiety that seemed to roll off of his tall cushion in great waves, so he plonked himself down in the man’s lap as soon as he was able and focused all his energy on distracting those worried hands by insisting on being petted. It wasn’t long before the man’s face had broken into a fond smile, and the little pug – having done his solemn duty – hopped down from his perch and watched him as he tucked the little bit into her bed. He snorted and plodded to the door, making sure that he was being followed, and led his tall cushion to the other room where the gentle one was waiting for him.

He was relived to see the older man sink gratefully into the gentle one’s arms, and faithfully assumed his post on his cushion on the other side of the door, perfectly placed to keep a watchful eye on each of his charges. 

Nails was carefully picking her way along the landing a little while later, and she paused to give him a most satisfying scratch as she slowly pushed the door open and watched the two men sleeping. She smiled softly and bent low to whisper in his ear, “Don’t tell him I know, yeah? Not yet.”

JB huffed in agreement, and considered her as she popped her head in to check on her little bit, marvelling at the fact that the gentle one seemed to think his late night rendezvous with the tall one had escaped Nails’ notice.

_Silly pup, can’t hide anything from mother._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mkay so, sorry im late with this but ive been sick as a dog for three days, so you can look forward to two chapters in one day (im just editing the next one now.)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy had expected Gawaine – the impressive bear of a man with his strength and stamina would have been an obvious choice – or even Agravaine. The older agent could glower the most fearless of men into submission. 
> 
> He did not, however, expect to see Harry step out from the doorway and calmly approach the recruits. The older man was dressed in a pair of loose, grey bottoms and a tighter white shirt. He was also barefoot.

Harry stirred as he felt the young man beside him unsuccessfully try to slip from the bed unnoticed. He slowly opened his eyes and blearily glanced at the clock by the bed. _7.38._ _Far too early for this nonsense._

He stretched his arm out and caught Eggsy’s wrist, using the younger man’s surprise to pull him back under the warm covers. He pressed his mouth to the base of Eggsy’s neck in a soft kiss as the man huffed and tried to squirm away – to no avail as Harry entwined his legs with his partner’s to prevent his struggling.

Eggsy laughed and pressed back against Harry as he felt his lips trace along the freckles that were scattered across his back and shoulders.

“Harry, got to get up.” 

“Why?” came the petulant huff from underneath the blanket. Eggsy grinned and rolled on his side to face the older man, carding his fingers through bed-mussed hair and pressing a gentle kiss to his greying temple before whispering, “Mum’s meetin’ a friend at half eight, she’ll be up soon.”

Harry’s brow crinkled and Eggsy couldn’t resist smoothing across the crease with his thumb. “And?”

The younger man sighed and bent to capture Harry’s lips, pulling back and smiling as he felt along the base of the bed with his feet, searching for his dressing gown. “Don’t wanna give her a fright, yeah?”

Harry very much doubted that Michelle was unaware of the progression of their relationship; she was, after all, the one who’d advised him to reveal his feelings. He realised he hadn’t actually mentioned that rather vital point to Eggsy, and relented in his attempts to keep the younger man in bed.

_Let him have one more day of blissful ignorance._

He propped himself up on his elbows as he watched Eggsy creep from the room with one last impish wink in his direction - impressed by how quietly he moved - and listened for the sound of Eggsy’s door clicking shut. Hearing it, he wasted no time in rising from the bed, intent on getting to the shower before anyone else.

_If there was one thing Harry Hart would allow himself to indulge in, it was a ridiculously long shower in the morning._

He had just put the kettle on when he heard Michelle’s frustrated shout at finding the bathroom in a thick fog of steam. _“Again, Harry?!”_

He chuckled and resolved to apologise with toast and marmalade, which he sheepishly presented to her as she bounded down the stairs ten minutes later. She accepted the peace offering with a smirk and took a grateful sip of her tea before settling herself at the kitchen table. 

Michelle regarded the man in front of her for a moment before she smiled sadly and set aside her mug, deciding that – as with all men – the direct approach was the surest. She wasn’t at all satisfied with Eggsy’s explanation for Harry’s behaviour; she knew herself exactly what was wrong. “I’ve seen the video.”

Harry – to his credit – barely flinched as he took the seat next to her. “I’m not surprised.”

Michelle hummed as she reached across the table and took his hand. “You’re a hero.”

Harry frowned and began to protest, but was cut short by Michelle’s impatient tut. “Ah! No, you are. I’ve never really seen what you lot do, and _bloody hell_ if that’s what it’s always like I might just be havin’ second thoughts about Eggsy being mixed up in all this.”

Harry sighed, “Michelle, I assure you it isn’t-”

“I’m not finished. It was rough, yeah, but it was very brave. Goin’ in there alone, facin’ up to that madman. Very brave, Harry.” The man sat quietly for a moment, content to rub his thumb along the back of her hand and sip his tea. 

She continued. “I know you boys are all for anonymity, but has it occurred to you that maybe we need something more than that now?” His eyes flicked up to meet hers and held her pointed gaze. “We need a bit of bravery.” Something seemed to shift in the dark pools, and a thoughtful little crease began to form between his brows as he tore his eyes from hers and settled them on his steaming cup.

Satisfied that she had made her point, Michelle decided to breach another topic that had been playing on her mind.

_Two birds with one stone, eh?_

“I know the two of you share a bed.”

_She may, or may not, have waited for him to raise his cup to his mouth before speaking._

Harry choked on his mouthful of tea and dropped the cup back onto the table with a clatter, droplets of its contents surging up against the sides and spilling over the edge, onto the wood. Michelle delicately handed him a tea towel with an innocent smile and waited for him to recover before she spoke again.

“I mean, you’ve been doin’ it for a while, ‘cause he was helping you with your dreams.”

Harry stiffened, “He told you about that?”

Michelle huffed. “’Course not, boy wouldn’t say anything ‘bout that. But I heard you, Harry - long before he did – cryin’ out in the dark. Didn’t say anythin’ ‘cause I wasn’t sure if it would be appreciated, you men are funny like that.”

She rose from the table and refilled the kettle, before coming back to stand behind Harry. She placed both hands on his shoulders and lowered her chin to rest stop his head. Michelle reached down and gently brought his arms up to rest atop the table, turning the sleeves of his dressing gown up and baring the pale skin marked only by two small crescent shaped lines – what remained of the deepest bites. “But I saw the bruises, saw you tuggin’ down your sleeve when it rode up. Eggsy used to do that, when Dean or the boys got at him with a cigarette, didn’t wanna upset me.” 

Her voice wavered and Harry reached up to take hold of her hands as they settled on his shoulders, squeezing gently and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. 

Her lips quirked into a private smile as she squeezed his hands in return. “It’s different now though, innit? He’s not just there to help you sleep. ‘M’not sure when it happened, but you told him, didn’t ya?”

Harry swallowed audibly and turned his head to face Michelle’s knowing grin. “I did.”

Her smile widened as she dropped a kiss to his forehead and whispered, “Good boy.” 

She was gone in a flash of blue satin with a muttered curse in the direction of the clock, leaving behind a trace of aloe vera in the air and her half eaten toast. Not one to be wasteful, Harry pilfered the remains from her plate just as Eggsy came through the doorway, drawn to the kitchen by the smell of food. 

He grinned as he approached Harry, pecking his cheek and darting around behind him to snatch the piece of toast from his fingers. He crammed the bread into his mouth before Harry could protest, but the older man simply leaned back in his chair, watching as Eggsy fought not to gag.

The toast was quickly swallowed – at least he had manners enough not to spit it out again - and a carton of orange juice was grabbed from the fridge – even if he still insisted on forgoing a glass. Eggsy glared at him as he drank deeply from the carton, eyes narrowing as Harry began to lick the remainders of the marmalade from his fingers.

“Fucking _rank_ , Harry. You never put marmalade on your toast in the mornin’, only ever eat it after lunch.” He paused and replaced the carton, grumbling under his breath as he closed the fridge door, “S’how I know not to nick it.”

The corner of Harry’s lip twitched. “It was your mum’s. She’s only just gone back upstairs.”

Eggsy resumed wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes still narrowed at the older man as he rose from his chair and crossed the kitchen. Harry placed both hands on Eggsy’s waist, tucking his thumbs under the hem of his t-shirt and rubbing slow circles into the warm skin above his hipbones. Eggsy tried in vain to keep pouting as Harry grinned and pulled him forward for a chaste kiss.

As the older man pulled back Eggsy noted the tense lines around his eyes had softened overnight. He tilted his head and considered Harry, rubbing his hands along the man’s upper arms. He smiled softly, and unlaced the tie of Harry’s dressing gown, slipping his arms underneath the fabric and nuzzling close to Harry’s warm chest. 

_Sandalwood and cinnamon. He’s fogged up the bathroom then._

“You talked to mum, didn’t ya?”

Harry absently trailed his fingers through Eggsy’s hair, an affirmative hum starting low in his throat as the younger man pressed his cheek to his skin. His forefinger traced the shell of Eggsy’s ear and he dropped to affectionately peck the crown of his head. 

“Mum always knows what to say.”

He heard Harry hum again, “She’s a smart woman.”

As they drew apart, Eggsy noticed something strange in Harry’s eyes, but before he could dwell on it further, the older man and flashed him a grin and offered him some very overdone toast, which Eggsy wholeheartedly accepted and wolfed down with gusto.

They were ready to leave early enough for the driver not to have left his own house yet, but Harry patiently waited for the car to pull up. 

As he slipped into the back he almost embarrassed at himself for allowing the media frenzy to cow him, but he knew in his heart that he was not yet ready to walk to work. The thought that he should be made to be afraid of his own street, his own city, made him furious – he was grateful for Eggsy’s reassuring presence beside him, the warmth radiating off the younger man as he pressed himself against Harry’s side was an inexplicably great comfort. 

_Though, try as he might, he couldn’t help but glance around nervously as they stopped at a junction – just to make sure that no one was looking into their taxi._

__

His skittishness did not go unnoticed by Eggsy, nor did the speed with which he darted into the shop once they had arrived. Eggsy followed slowly behind, taking stock of the pedestrians that passed by the shop front.

He followed Harry into his office, closing the door behind with a click and a sympathetic glance at David – who was, undoubtedly, the victim of Harry’s brisk attitude – and turned to face the older man as he began leafing through the papers he’d left scattered on his desk the morning they left for Scotland. He ran his fingertips along the polished wooden surface as he made his way around the table, coming to a stop behind Harry and pressing forwards to crowd the older man up against the edge.

Harry turned in his arms with a befuddled look and Eggsy smiled fondly as he reached forwards and removed the glasses. Carefully setting them aside, he ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, greatly appreciating the new length that gave him more to play with. He gently thumbed the ragged scar that rose into his hairline, taking note of the tiny flinch in Harry’s left eye as he did so. He rocked forward on his toes and pressed his lips to the uneven skin, dropping down to kiss his way along the side of Harry’s brow and cheek. 

He reached his lips and captured them gently, chastely. He felt the breath of Harry’s amused huff leave his nostrils and had pulled back slightly with the intention of deepening the kiss when he heard a sharp beeping coming from his own glasses. He pecked Harry’s lips and stepped back, a promise in his eyes to continue, before touching his finger to the rim of his glasses.

“Yeah?”

Merlin’s gruff voice sounded through the feed. _“I need you to bring the wee ones down to me for the afternoon, Roxy’s just been called away.”_

Eggsy frowned. “Anything serious?”

 _“Not to worry, just some domestic nonsense; I’ve no doubt she’ll bore you with the details later.”_ Merlin grunted and signed off, leaving no room for argument. The order was clear enough.

Eggsy exhaled and turned to Harry once more, shrugging as he grinned. “Duty calls, babe.” Harry smiled back and dropped his face to kiss Eggsy’s brow, meeting his lips again before stepping back. “Go, I’ve more than enough to be getting on with here, and I’ll join you at the manor for lunch.”

Eggsy was almost at the door before he turned. “You okay, love?” Harry glanced up from his papers and nodded, mouth twitching up at the corner. 

The little twitch seemed smaller and sadder as of late, but Eggsy had Merlin waiting and plenty of time to press the issue later.

_Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure that Harry had had enough time to process what was actually happening._

The man in question had just settled himself at his table when he heard a series of sharp raps at his door. He set aside the stack of newspapers that David had laid out for him earlier that morning and cleared his throat. 

"Enter."

The heavy doors opened to reveal Percival, standing at the threshold and waiting for permission. "Arthur, may I have a word?" Harry raised his hand and motioned the other man into the room, rising from his chair and approaching the sideboard. “Tea?” he asked over his shoulder. Percival nodded and gestured at the seat next to Harry’s.

"May I?" 

Harry turned, cups in hand and placed one in front of the other man. "Of course, Percival."

He accepted it with a nod and took his seat, fiddling with the lines of his jacket before undoing the buttons completely and settling his calculating gaze on Harry – who simply sipped his tea, raised his brow and waited patiently for Percival to begin.

"You are aware that the candidates were present during your little transmission incident last week?"

A nod - and a barely restrained twitch at the corner of his mouth – as Harry’s eyes stayed locked with his. 

Percival huffed. "Then you are of course, aware that I've had to deal with a barrage of questions being thrown at me? Questions about fraternization, about favouritism?"

Harry hummed thoughtfully and lowered his cup to its saucer, cushioning the impact with his little finger. "And your response?"

Percival shook his head and snorted incredulously, "You don't care, do you?" 

Harry grinned unabashedly. "Not at all."

Percival closed his eyes and tried not to smile, clearing his throat with a cough and taking a long gulp of his piping hot tea – completely unaffected by the heat. "Nevertheless, I've explained that your situation was rather... _unique."_

"Our situation?"

"That the two of you were so _bloody_ in love it was making the rest of us sick, and that if Merlin and Lancelot hadn't done something when they did, the rest of us were a _hairsbreadth_ away from locking you two in this office until it yielded a desirable result,” he punctuated his words with a delicate sniff, “Though, naturally, I promised that you would be offering them a full and very sincere apology."

Harry blinked. "An apology?"

"Of course, it’s not every day that a knight sees their King in such a compromising position. I would have asked Galahad for one, but I'm not quite sure whether that would make him angry or embarrassed."

"Both," said Harry definitely, "Though anger would win out in the end."

His admission drew an easy laugh from the other man, before he furrowed his brow and focused on a particularity dark spot in the surface of the polished table.

Harry considered the weary knight in front of him, "How are you, Eric?"

"Exhausted."

"How was Brussels?"

"Ghastly, though I feel positively rotten for allowing Merlin to berate Lancelot like he did."

Harry sighed heavily and thought back to the wounded look on the young woman’s face. "It was necessary, she shouldn’t have lost contact...and you know how he is- especially considering the time of year."

Percival nodded.

Harry cleared his throat and thought about how best to approach the subject. "I know you're the most adept agent when it comes to diplomatic relations. Naturally you've been keeping up with the news from here, there and everywhere."

The question of, _‘What’s it like?’_ went unasked, but was – regardless - answered.

Percival heaved a sigh. "It's the same in every country, your face plastered over each prime-time news bulletin. The glasses only captured a fleeting glance at that mirror, but there is - of course - the issue of that pesky little green line of text in the corner. People are asking questions."

_Bugger._

Harry raked a hand through his hair and removed his glasses. "I'm aware of that." He sifted through a pile of newspapers to his left, fishing from the bottom one that was completely black on the front page. The words, 'Transmitting to who?' were printed boldly across it in bright green - a mockery of the font in their video feed.

Harry turned his attention from the paper to the other man. "I can only be grateful that the world - _touch wood_ \- seems to be content in having someone to blame for the atrocities of V-Day."

"It's still a mess, though."

A pause. "Undoubtedly."

Percival leaned forwards and braced himself on his elbows. "What do we do then?"

_Give up - surrender to anarchy…or fight?_

Harry regarded his earnest expression for a moment before narrowing his eyes "You know that the CIA and FBI were decimated during V-Day?"

Percival nodded, his piercing blue eyes darting to the collection of newspapers and back again. "Merlin mentioned, yes."

"The heads of both resisted Valentine's proposal, and were imprisoned in the bunker, so they survived. Merlin's had the idea to integrate them into the American division."

Percival started, blinking at Harry in shock. "Mixing Kingsman with government?"

Harry straightened in his seat. "A unified Kingsman overseeing the world until it’s strong enough to run itself."

Percival gave a low whistle. "Remarkable."

Harry peered at the other man from over the rim of his cup. “Your connection with the Americans is a strong one, if I remember correctly.”

“You do, Sir - I have family there.”

“Enlisted?”

A slow shake of Percival’s head accompanied his nervous shift in his chair. “No, Sir, FBI.”

Harry blanched. “Oh shit, I’m terribly sorry Eric.”

“Don’t be, distant relations I’d only met on a handful of occasions.”

“I see, still; a terrible time for all.”

Percival nodded soberly before frowning. “Why the interest in my American connections?”

“Washington contacted me last night, offered commiserations for the leaked video footage, and promised to help in any way she could. Once the pleasantries were out of the way, she got down to business.” He absently traced his thumb along the rim of his cup, catching a droplet of tea and smearing it across the white porcelain. He lifted his eyes back up to watch the man in front of him. “There’s a mole.”

Percival’s jaw clenched. “In the States?”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. “We were hit first, and when that wasn’t enough they – _whoever they are_ – targeted Washington’s office. Their agents are intact, but their informant division has been compromised.”

“What do they call their Merlin again?”

“Eagle. Eagle’s division’s in tatters. The existence of the mole was discovered and, naturally, a huge mess was made in cleaning up. Subtlety isn’t exactly their forte. It’s gotten round their whole agency, and if Berlin gets a whiff we’re fucked.”

Percival considered this carefully before glancing up at Harry again, seeking affirmation. “Washington has requested assistance then?”

“She has, Galahad will leave early tomorrow morning. He’ll be met by Adams in New York and taken on from there. You’ll fly in tonight, give yourself some time to get to grips with the place. Jefferson will be your man.”

Percival’s surprise was evident as his brows darted up over the rim of his wide glasses. “Jefferson _and_ Adams? My, my- they’re keeping this close to home. Haven’t the Father’s any missions of their own?”

Harry shook his head, fiddling with the edges of a folder and dusting the grains of sugar from his papers. “Merlin’s had his suspicions about the loyalties of Eagle’s team for some time now, so he’s been bypassing his approval and personally handing out directives to the Fathers. They’ve been delegating the jobs to the junior agents, which leaves them free to smoke out their traitor.”

“I see.”

Harry fixed his intense gaze on Percival. “I need you in there, if it’s the same with them as it was with us then the mole will be someone close to Eagle. So close, in fact, that Washington has requested that we are the sole investigators in the matter - she doesn’t want her agents mixed up in all this.”

Percival smirked. “I wasn’t aware Washington was particularly willing to surrender control to us under any circumstance.”

Harry offered a genuinely amused smile. “This is an exception, and so is the fact that she agrees with Merlin and I. Kingsman needs to unite across all divisions. I’m meeting with Berlin and Bavaria in three days and Merlin’s setting something up with the French and the Italians for next week, the rest will follow. With any luck we’ll be able to coordinate Europe by Saturday.”

Percival acquiesced to Harry’s request easily enough, and the two men fell back into lighter conversation.

_Though Percival was convinced that the older man couldn’t have been as calm as he was letting on._

Eggsy, meanwhile, had been tasked with escorting the potential Kingsman agents to their final stage of training – associating themselves with the dreaded handlers.

The Merlin division was a peculiar, underground wing of the Kingsman mansion, far enough away from everyone else that Merlin’s neurotic team wouldn’t complain about being disturbed. They’d been relocated after several _violent_ altercations with the weapons and pyrotechnics division – with Percival having taken responsibility for the pet project of the former Lancelot.

Eggsy clapped his hands as soon as the lift doors pinged open, and stepped into the cavernous room. "Right then, Itty Bitties, welcome to the Merlin division!” He spread his hands before him for emphasis, and spun on his heel - giving an exaggerated twirl to face them with a smirk. Raising his brows he jerked one thumb over his shoulder, gesturing for them to follow as he swaggered forwards with a spring in his step.

Puzzled by his cheerful disposition, the nine young candidates hurried to keep up with him, barely restraining their curiosity as they peered at the booths lining the walls – all occupied by an irate handler shouting into a headset or telephone in too many languages to distinguish one from the another, each of their desks littered with about a dozen cups of half-drunk coffee. The room itself was in complete disarray, papers scattered everywhere and files and folders being flung across desks like frisbees. 

Eggsy ducked them with practiced ease, coming to a stop in front of a large table that occupied most of the centre floor space. As the candidates inspected it closely they realised that it was not – in fact – a table at all, rather a huge flat screen upon which was displayed a map of the world. Dates and casualty lists and information updates flickered into existence and disappeared almost as quickly around the edges of the map. Across each of the continents blinked hundreds of tiny green dots, and they watched in awe as a flustered woman rushed to the table and tapped one close to the border of Mexico. The projection of a man running for his life in the midst of heavy gunfire sprung from the table and hovered in the air for a moment.

“Gawaine has secured the target!” The woman called over her shoulder to an equally flustered man, who rushed towards a flight of glass stairs and through a set of heavy glass doors, out of sight.

Eggsy grinned and flashed a wink at the woman, who huffed but smiled back good-naturedly before dashing back to her booth. “These guys are handlers,” he gestured to the harried looking staff members. “Think of them like…lots of little Merlin’s.” 

Eggsy tried not to smile at the looks of terror he received in return. 

He pointed at flight of stairs. “Merlin’s their top dog, but he can’t always be keepin’ an eye on everythin’. Most of the time when you’re out in the field you won’t have Merlin barkin’ in your ear – it’ll be one of these guys instead. Merlin only oversees the high priority missions, the other domestic stuff gets passed down to his division.” 

Turning back to face the wary recruits he grinned. “First rule of the Merlin division; _don’t fucking ask nothin’_. These guys are far too busy to give you an answer and any answer they do give you is probably a straight up lie.”

As he spoke a sharply dressed older man swanned past and poked his shoulder. “Mornin’ Galahad!” 

Eggsy returned the greeting with a grin and a raised finger, much to the delight of the other man. “Fuck off, Sparrow.”

“Sparrow?” piped in one of the recruits. Eggsy remembered him as the brightest of the bunch, but one who’d almost fainted during his first pack run. He smiled kindly and laughed, “Yeah, like the bird? Merlin’s sense of humour.” 

He waved his hand in the direction of a tall man with greying hair and thick, red glasses standing by a water cooler. He was engaged in a heated debate with the much shorter man next to him. “Can get a bit confusing though, ‘cause we got Hawk and Eagle over there.” At the mention of their names the two men turned and acknowledged Eggsy with a respectful nod, though the shorter did give a genuine smile in greeting. 

Eggsy saluted in return. “Coincidentally the American Merlin’s called Eagle and the German one’s known as Hawk.” He glanced around the room, his eyes coming to rest on an amiable looking young woman with red hair and an arm full of folders. She smiled as she passed them.

“Kingfisher’s nice enough,” he began, before nodding his head towards a dark skinned woman with closely-cropped hair, piercing green eyes and an impossibly stern frown, “but stay away from Nightingale; cross her and you’ll never live it down…trust me.” He waggled his fingers at the woman as she leaned against a nearby table, surveying the room with her sharp eyes. They narrowed in response as she pushed her slender frame away from the table, stalking across the room with precise, graceful movements. Her predatory manner unnerved more than one of the recruits. 

Eggsy smirked and cleared his throat, nodding again at the flight of stairs. “You hear them talking about the ‘Lord of the manor’, they’re talkin’ ‘bout Merlin,” he paused and frowned, “but don’t ever tell him they call him that. He knows of course, and privately agrees with them, just don’t say it to his face, yeah?”

Eggsy received nine grave nods in return, though he did note with pleasure the spark of amusement in one or two sets of eyes. He clapped his hands again.

“Right then - have fun! I’ll see you later!”

He waved at them, grinning at their half-hearted returns in the face of the leering handlers that began to circle them. 

_Pack of hyenas._

Eggsy shook his head and huffed a quiet laugh as the entered the lift and pressed the button for Arthur’s floor.

_They’re gonna get eaten alive._

He dwelled on this cheery thought until he reached his destination - exiting the lift, only to jump back in surprise at Merlin’s enraged growl coming from the other side of Harry’s door. "I don't know why any of us bothered to try and predict that- that _bastard's_ behaviour in the first place!"

He could just make out Harry’s attempts to reason with the man. "Merlin? Robert, please, what's wrong?" 

Inside the office, Harry was gripping the arms of his chair, still frozen in shock at the sight Merlin had made storming through the doors and thrusting a folder at his chest. He’d barely managed to hold onto it, having been caught so off guard. Five minutes of furious ranting and raving later and Merlin was still working himself into a frenzy.

His voice dropped to a dangerous hiss. "That _fucker_ \- he recorded it. He bloody well recorded it!"

Harry dropped the folder on his desk and pushed himself out of his chair, hands raised in an effort to placate the other man. "Recorded _what?_ "

Merlin paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose between this thumb and forefinger, pushing his glasses up over his knuckles. They were left ever so slightly askew as he removed his hand.

"The CCTV in the church was on a closed circuit feed, and Valentine wiped it after he was finished, but not before he fucking made a copy for himself.” The other man’s voice took on a hysterical note as he began frantically pacing the room, gesturing wildly as he spoke. “And where did he store that copy? In his bloody study. Not the study in the underground bunker half a world away, no, he kept it in his house in London. A house that has been under investigation by what's left of the legitimate authorities for the last three days. They raided his study, and in his study they found a disc, labelled _'Death of a Kingsman._ '"

Harry blinked and muttered quietly. "Yes, he did mention he was an Arthur Millar fan."

Merlin shot him a heated glower over his shoulder. "Not helping, Harry." He spun on his heel and fell back against his desk, bracing both hands on the wood.

"They watched the footage. The footage in which you aid in the slaughter of about a hundred dangerously right-wing religious fanatics. The footage that just so happens to be a hell of a lot clearer than that blurry image of you leaving the church." 

Throughout his tirade, Merlin had failed to notice Harry’s paling complexion and pinched expression. “Well its out now and I can’t do anything because it’s out of our hands and I-” he broke off suddenly, as though he’d only just noticed the tremor in his hands, a tremor that matched the strain in his voice.

Merlin reached out and took him into his arms, allowing his friend to finally come to terms with the news.

_Knew he’d been too fucking calm about it earlier._

Harry sagged against the other man, muttering dejectedly into Merlin’s cardigan, “Everything is going to change isn’t it?” He felt Merlin nod as his chin came to rest atop Harry’s head.

“It doesn’t have to; I’ve got people, Harry, I can-” He was cut short by Harry’s head shaking, the older man pulling back to frown up at him.

“I spoke to Michelle earlier, perhaps change is a good thing.”

_Aye, but ye don’t look like ye believe it._

Nevertheless Merlin smiled his encouragement and grasped Harry’s hands in his, making sure the other man was listening intently to his next words. “Whatever ye need, brother, I’m here.”

Harry’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he pulled Merlin into a tight embrace, holding onto the man he held so dearly and thanking whatever Deity there may be that he had him in his life. 

_Even if he wasn’t sure he deserved it half the time._

They broke apart at the sound of Eggsy’s quiet knocking on the door. Harry glanced at the clock on his wall. “Shit, I promised Eggsy lunch.”

Eggsy, in keeping with tradition, had only learnt to knock before entering a room. That did, however, mean he actually waited for permission – especially not from Harry. He slowly cracked the door open, unsure as to what state Harry’ office would be in. Both men looked relatively haggard, but none the worse for wear.

He cleared his throat, “Don’t worry ‘bout lunch, Harry, if you’ve got somethin’ to finish up here.” Merlin shook his head, “We’re done, Eggsy, s’alright.”

Eggsy grinned and stepped fully into the room, taking in Harry’s unusually pale face and Merlin’s still-irate expression. He spared Harry a worried glance before addressing the other man, “Fancy joining us for a bite?”

Merlin tried to politely refuse, but still found himself seated across from Harry and Eggsy in the manor’s kitchen, ten minutes later. The chef had been kind enough to prepare something for them, late as they were. The conversation had shifted to the selection of the new knights.

“There are nine of them left, and five positions; how do you propose we work this one out?” Merlin took a bite of his sandwich as Harry considered the carrots floating in his soup before answering.

“We divide them into three groups, and one of each will be knighted. The remaining six go against each other – in a task I’m sure you’ll find suitable - and one victor gets their position. Then the last five can come together for a final task; whoever succeeds secures the Knighthood.”

Merlin nodded “Okay, and what do we do with the other four?”

“I’m sure you won’t object to a few more handlers. They’ll need extra training, of course, but we’d be daft to let anyone go at this point. But you already knew I had something in mind…didn’t you?” Harry gave a crooked smile at Merlin’s innocently raised brow.

The man swallowed his bite and wiped the smear of mayonnaise from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “I’ll have the shortlist in half an hour.”

Harry hummed in agreement, “Call me with the victors of each round, I want to congratulate them personally. I’ll be there for the final test, as you well know.”

Merlin smirked, and Eggsy glanced between the two older men. “Why does Harry only need to be there for the final task?”

_His answer came at seven that evening._

“ _Jesus._ ”

“Quite,” grinned Merlin from the gym’s observation box. “You weren’t the only one who could have made the Olympic gymnastics team.”

Eggsy had been summoned to the gym with Roxy as the four successful knights had been presented to them. 

The title of Morgan was passed to Josie – a quick and dangerous shot that Roxy admired, but that Eggsy – and the rest of the boys - was not so secretly unnerved by. 

The haughty blonde named Adrian - that had warmed to Eggsy open closer acquaintance - was dubbed Urien. Eggsy appreciated his dark sense of humour and fondness for throwing knives. 

Timothy, by far the meekest of the bunch had surprised everyone in securing Gareth’s position – owing much of his success to his frighteningly brilliant mind. Eggsy and Roxy envisioned a budding friendship between the boy and their magician. 

Their new Erec, Lawrence, had been an acquired taste at first, easily offending everyone with very little effort. Eggsy had chalked it down to ignorance, and after – unbeknownst to Harry – offering an apology for the little transmission mishap, Eggsy found the young man to be receptive enough to new ideas, even if he was a tad dull. 

_Bloody good with explosives though._

Merlin was suitably terrified at the prospect of having to rein in another trigger happy pyrotechnics enthusiast – Percival had, naturally, gleefully taken the younger man under his proverbial wing. 

That left five recruits fighting for Kay’s title, and Eggsy was surprised – even a little disappointed – to see Pratibha amongst them. 

He was as equally surprised to discover the last test being nothing more than the simple task of disarming one of the senior agents. The recruits gathered below them on a set of large gymnastics mats, facing the direction of the changing room and eagerly awaiting the arrival of their opponent. 

Eggsy had expected Gawaine – the impressive bear of a man with his strength and stamina would have been an obvious choice – or even Agravaine. The older agent could glower the most fearless of men into submission. 

He did not, however, expect to see Harry step out from the doorway and calmly approach the recruits. The older man was dressed in a pair of loose, grey bottoms and a tighter white shirt. He was also barefoot.

_Eggsy was most certainly not complaining about the view._

He had just started to turn his questioning gaze on Merlin, when he noticed Harry quietly addressing the recruits before glancing up at Percival. The other man grinned and raised a thumb.

Eggsy’s brow had furrowed, but his mouth soon dropped open in shock as the first recruit took her place opposite Harry. 

_Elizabeth._

Her name was all Eggsy had time to consider, before the young woman had charged at Harry – who had reached into his waistband and withdrawn a semi-automatic handgun that Eggsy had never seen before. 

“Harry favours the Russians,” Merlin had whispered in his ear, “but he modified it himself.”

Eggsy had waved him off as he gripped the handrail of the balcony, watching with baited breath as the young woman drew near Harry. 

In a flurry of movement Harry had ducked the side, bringing his right leg up to hook around hers. He had caught her shoulders and flipped the pair of them onto the mat with a painful thud – very considerately shouldering most of the impact himself. She had been pinned a few seconds later.

Eggsy blinked.

The next to try had been Jackson, a stouter boy at least twice the width of Harry. He had surged forward with powerful strides, only to almost trip over himself as Harry had vaulted over his entire body and dropped to a low crouch, springing forward and wrapping his legs around the younger man’s thick waist.

Jackson hit the floor and Eggsy stared. 

_“Jesus.”_

He barely heard Merlin say something about the Olympic gymnastics team – he was far too preoccupied with the sight of Harry staring casually down at the younger man’s disbelieving expression. 

_The older man hadn’t even broken a sweat._

Ian and Richard followed in a similar fashion, slamming into the ground as Harry moved in silent, graceful arcs – his body twisting in ways that Eggsy briefly considered being reminiscent of his own, old floor routines.

_None of them had yet disarmed their King._

Pratibha was the last to try, and Eggsy suddenly found himself rooting against Harry. 

_She’s so small_ , he worried, hoping that Harry would take her size into account and treat her more gently that he had the others.

He needn’t have worried. 

Before Harry could shift into a ready stance, the impossibly miniature women in front of him had surged across the mat in a streak of caramel skin and pinned him to the floor with an elbow at his crotch and foot pressing against his throat. His gun clattered to floor beside him, echoing in the now silent room. Her breathing steady, she smiled at Harry, popping up from her crouch and offering him a hand to help him to his feet. 

Harry blinked.

_Well, well, well._

Accepting the offer of help, Harry allowed himself to be pulled upright– he kept a firm grasp on the young woman’s hand after he had steadied himself. The room was still enraptured with the scene, and Harry was sure he could hear Merlin’s iPad cracking under the strength of the man’s grip.

“Welcome to Kingsman, Kay.”

She beamed. 

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

_What?_

Above him, Eggsy choked on his own tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah um sorry for the blatant lie about two chapters in one day, real life caught up to me for a while, but this one is like the second longest so far so...


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry’s attention was pulled away from the sight of his friend’s apparent breakdown and back to Merlin as the other man gripped his shoulders and gave him a slight shake, hazel eyes frantic as he hissed, “Give me a fucking coffee machine or I’m taking my annual leave right now and handing this _clusterfuck_ over to you!”

“You are one of the _bravest_ people I’ve ever met, Pree.”

The young woman in question turned her chestnut eyes to her companion, smiling softly as she titled her head to side and inquired, “Why?”

Eggsy shook his head. “You’ve got to be kidding!” He spun to face her and continued to walk backwards along the hallway. “You called Harry _‘your Majesty’_ to his face. Fuck it was brilliant though!”

She smiled indulgently at him, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Well he’s our King.”

Eggsy scrunched his nose as he snorted, “Not literally though.”

She halted before a break in the hallway - one corridor leading to the East wing and Percival’s pyrotechnics division, the other running westwards towards the library and Gawaine’s intelligence office – and regarded Eggsy with a seriousness in her eyes and a quirk in her brow.

“Isn’t he?”

Without waiting for his answer, she skipped around the corner. Eggsy stood still for a moment, mulling over her words with a furrowed brow.

_The fuck does that mean?_

Shaking his head he continued North along the corridor to Harry’s office, finding the older man immersed in his stack of morning papers. The headlines hadn’t changed in the last few days – Harry was the focus of every one – no matter how many times he checked them.

He glanced up as Eggsy entered his office. “Eggsy, you should be at the shuttle.”

Eggsy rocked back on his heels and came to rest against the doorframe. He shrugged. “I’ve got ten minutes still, thought you were going to come see me off.”

Harry lifted himself out of his chair and strolled around his desk to stand in front of Eggsy. He raised his hand and carded his fingers through the tufts of hair that Eggsy had missed when styling it that morning.

_Personally, Harry rather liked his hair when it wasn’t slicked back with gel._

Eggsy leant into the touch, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to meet Harry’s mouth as the older man kissed his forehead, dropping down to pepper his cheek and nose with the soft brushes of his lips. Harry brought their mouths together and slipped his tongue out to coax Eggsy’s lips apart. The younger man willingly obliged, accepting Harry’s tongue as it teasingly darted into his mouth and back again. Harry withdrew with a fond warmth in his mahogany eyes and a loving smile playing across his lips.

“I was just about to leave.”

Eggsy raised his brow and smirked at Harry. “Very well,” the older man amended, “the longer I take to see you off, the more time I have to keep you to myself.”

He wrapped an arm around Eggsy’s waist and guided him from the room. His arm remained in place as they made their way through the maze of halls, down to the base of the mansion. Eggsy positively preened as he felt the eyes of the other agents come to rest on their retreating backs – their none-too-subtle whispers only half muffled by raised hands. 

As they passed Bors – their Housekeeper, charged with the unpleasant job of cleaning up any ‘loose ends’ after missions gone awry - in his glass office, Harry called in a quick greeting. When they turned to leave, Eggsy brought his own arm up to rest on Harry’s waist – grazing the beginnings of the curve of Harry’s suit-clad bum, thus low enough to be considered _slightly inappropriate_. He grinned privately as he heard the sound of Bors choking on what was, undoubtedly, his third cup of morning coffee.

Merlin was shifting nervously on his feet as they entered the shuttle bay. He politely glanced away as Harry and Eggsy shared a quick, goodbye kiss. Eggsy grinned as he withdrew, only to be prevented from pulling away completely by Harry’s grip on his waist. His face softened into an affectionate smile. “I’ll only be gone a few days, surely you can survive without me?”

Harry recaptured his lips softly, smiling sadly against them. “I’ll manage.” The younger man squeezed his hand and moved to take his seat in the shuttle.

Harry raised his hand to wave Eggsy off, his smile dropping into a frown as the shuttle door rolled shut. It sped out of sight and he stepped back, his hand dropping to rest at his side. 

Merlin approached him from behind, touching his shoulder and murmuring, “He’ll be fine, Harry.”

Harry gave a tight nod that matched the tension in his brow, and turned to the other man - startled to find the agitation radiating from him like a stifling heat. “What on earth is the matter with you?”

Merlin took a deep breath, his words escaping from his mouth in a rush. “I need an expenses form pushed through.”

Harry’s eyebrow rose in a delicate arch as he smirked, knowingly. “What kind of expenses form?”

Merlin blinked. “We need a new coffee machine in the Merlin department.”

_Not…what he expected._

“I can’t just authorise frivolous spending whenever you demand it,” he paused and considered the man before him with a careful eye. “I’m still trying to reign in the budget after your initial blowout - never seen such reckless expenditure.”

Merlin turned on his heel and began to march down the hallway. Harry sprang forward and hurried to catch up to him. “Reckless maybe, but totally necessary - what with the world falling to bits and all.”

_Necessary my arse._

“That may be so but-”

Merlin threw back his head with an irate grunt. “ _Christ_ , Harry, just sign off on enough for a new coffee machine and be done with it.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “What happened to the old one?”

“Bloody Percival, I know it was,” Merlin spat as they rounded a corner, Gawaine’s interns scattering in their wake. 

“Percival’s in the states,” Harry pointed out. 

Merlin fixed his sharp glare on Harry’s smirking face, “Then he did it before he left.”

Harry rubbed at his eye with his thumb and huffed a frustrated sigh. “He was with me all of last night, running over the final mission debriefing and organising Eggsy’s pickup for this morning.”

Merlin continued, undeterred. “Then he got one of his wee brats to carry out his dirty work.”

Harry’s eyes discreetly rolled back as he lifted his chin and stared at the ceiling. 

_Lord, give me patience._

“Oh for the love of- _I’m not going through this again_. The Merlin department and Pyrotechnics will have to learn to coexist peacefully, or else I’ll ship you both off to opposite ends of the country.”

“Fine by me!”

Harry’s lips quirked into a devilish grin. He cleared his throat and glanced at the other man before proposing, snidely, “Well - how do you like the sound of Wales?”

Merlin’s stride faltered as he missed a step. “That’s not even fucking funny, Harry.”

Harry realised that – seemingly without his paying attention – Merlin had manoeuvred them along the west wing and into a lift. He glanced at the dial as the doors closed them in and saw that they were heading for the basement.

He rounded on Merlin with a furious hiss.

“I’m not going down there.”

_Oh yes you fucking are, ya prick._

Merlin levelled him with an unfaltering stare, and the two men locked gazes as Merlin placed himself in front of the lift panel, preventing Harry from changing their destination. Harry pressed himself against the back wall, a coolness seeping through his jacket and shirt as he flattened against the cold glass of the mirror. 

He had sworn – after the first harrowing experience – never to return to the basement unless he absolutely had to, preferring instead to summon Merlin to his side as needed.

_He’d managed ten years of uninterrupted peace and quiet._

All of which was to be upset in a single morning. It began with the deceptively innocent ‘ding’ of the lift announcing their arrival. The doors slid open, and Harry was assaulted by a sudden, and deafening roar. 

Merlin strode out of the lift without waiting for Harry to follow, and came to a stop near the centre of the room. All around him, the raised voices were screaming and swearing and seething in every spoken language known to man. Files and folders were utilised as projectiles, as handlers threw themselves, and each other, across desks and cabinets in an effort to answer telephones – every single one of which seemed to be emitting a shrill and ear piercing ring. 

Laptops had been knocked off tables, broken tablets littering the floor and crunching underfoot as red-faced and flustered handlers darted from cubicle to cubicle, picking fights with anyone that dared bump their shoulder. 

Above the confusion and muddled fog of noise, Harry could pick out a few - more enraged – voices.

_“Give me that!”_

_“Don’t you fucking dare, Crow!”_

_“¡Eso es mio! …No, yo no estaba hablando contigo embajador-”_

_“Even geduld aub! Both of you- shut the fuck up!”_

_“T’was Pyro, the bastards – we’ll get them fer this lads! We cannae stand fer it!”_

Though he was fairly certain he had imagined the hushed whisper coming from somewhere just beyond the open lift doors. 

_“Quiet, you imbecile – the King’s arrived.”_

Harry cautiously peeked his head through the lift doors, only to duck hurriedly back in as Hawk – frighteningly stiff-necked though he normally was – charged past the lift in pursuit of Sparrow – the younger and far more agile man vaulting over a low cubicle wall, red mission ledger held aloft and at ransom.

Merlin raised his arms and spun with a wild, toothy grin, gesturing in a wide arc to the chaos around him. “Anarchy!” He shouted over the thunderous ruckus. 

Harry emerged from the lift and hurried to Merlin’s side, ducking and weaving around the folders being lobbed in his general direction. He glanced over Merlin’s shoulder to see Nightingale – and how that woman terrified him – quick, green eyes observing the proceedings from the balcony above as she leisurely cored an apple with a penknife and a devilish leer. Rodger – a handler that went by Robin, and whom Harry was particularly familiar with – seemed to have given up entirely, and was lying – face down – across the digital map in the middle of the floor. He obediently twitched out of the way whenever someone yelled at him to move. 

Harry’s attention was pulled away from the sight of his friend’s apparent breakdown and back to Merlin as the other man gripped his shoulders and gave him a slight shake, hazel eyes frantic as he hissed, “Give me a fucking coffee machine or I’m taking my annual leave right now and handing this _clusterfuck_ over to you!” 

Harry visibly paled at the thought as a violent shudder clawed its way up from the base of his spine. He raised his hands in surrender, and began frantically back-tracking towards the lift doors. 

“Take it,” he called out, “Whatever you need to do, do it! I don’t care.” He punched the buttons on the lift panel with a closed fist, shouting through the gap in the closing doors, “Lord knows you forge my signature often enough already!” 

He just managed to catch Merlin’s triumphant grin as he filled his lungs and threw back his head before the other man’s bellow was cut short by the lift doors meeting and the gears above him whirring to life. The quiet hum of the lift calmed him as it carried him back to safety. As he watched the numbers on the dial creep higher he silently vowed to never again venture into the basement if he could help it.

_It was – irrevocably – Merlin’s domain, and Harry knew he had very little power there._

He made his way back to his office to despair over newspapers and financial requests until he was disturbed by Merlin alerting him to the arrival of two unexpected guests.

“It’s Piedmont, Sir, he’s arrived with Rabelais.”

Harry swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat and asked Merlin to show them to his board room. When the doors clicked shut, he rose from his chair and approached a panel in the wooden cladding that stood slightly raised than those around it. Harry waited until he could hear the muffled voices in the other room, before he pushed on a small wooden carving and opened the panel in the wall, stepping through to be met by the sight of Merlin conversing with two men. One older than himself – who turned to welcome him with a genuine smile – the other, slightly younger – his face distorted by a permanent frown that only deepened as he watched Harry emerge from the wall. 

Harry regarded him coldly as he stepped forward to grasp the older man’s outstretched hand. He glanced at the younger man, and – seeing no visible sign of such an action being welcome – decided to forgo the same gesture. He cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the oldest of the pair as he spoke. “Gentlemen, if you are amenable, we shall conduct our business in English - for simplicity’s sake.”

The younger man gave a grunt as he stalked towards a chair. “Not a problem.”

The older man – by far the more obliging of the two - smirked at Harry, and spoke with great warmth. “Of course, Arthur. And thank you for agreeing to meet on such…short notice.” 

Harry returned his easy smile and nodded. “You were already close - there was no point in meeting in a week’s time when we can get it over with now.”

He gestured for the older man to take his seat and lowered himself into his own, undoing his jacket buttons and allowing it to fall open. It had the combined purpose of making himself more comfortable as well as revealing the soft brown leather of his holster. From the corner of his eye he observed the younger man doing the same. 

_Wonderful, none of us know who to trust._

Harry’s eyes darted up to catch Merlin’s, nodding his permission for the man to escape the sudden tension that had settled in the room. Merlin gratefully fled, pausing on the other side of the door to catch Harry’s words. “You are, naturally, aware of the situation?”

The younger man snorted derisively and lifted a cup from the low table next to him, helping himself – and only himself – to tea. “The world has gone to shit and your Merlin has done a poor job in keeping you all a secret.”

Harry’s eye twitched as the older man next to him resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Unlike his younger companion he had made no move to reveal his weapons, despite Harry knowing for certain that there were many.

“Before we go any further I would like to remind you both that it was a mole that leaked that footage to the press, Merlin did wonderfully to conceal it for as long as he did. I won’t tolerate a cross word against his efforts, especially when neither of you can say for sure that your informant division is in any way secure.”

The older man hummed softly. “Then it is true? The American’s are compromised?”

Harry dipped his head. “It is true, yes. I’ve personally selected the agents to handle the crisis. Percival arrived last night, and Galahad is _en route_. They will infiltrate Eagle’s division and diffuse the situation before anymore damaged is caused. I trust both of you understand that Berlin can’t know about this.”

The elder nodded. “And if Hawk is compromised?”

“Then we will offer our assistance.”

“They will question why we did not warn them.”

The younger man sat forward in his seat, fixing his sharp eyes on Harry. “It is simple - we do not trust them.”

The older man gave a Harry a long-suffering look as he patiently addressed his younger colleague. “We are going to have to put all of that behind us, if what Arthur is proposing is actually going to work.”

The man did not seem satisfied. “I have already made my opinion on German cooperation very clear,” he insisted vehemently. 

The older man’s patience was beginning to wear thin. “You are forgetting that it is Rousseau - and not you, Rabelais - who is in control. Rousseau has already agreed to Arthur’s proposal.”

“It is a foolish proposal, Piedmont!” Rabelais’s accent thickened as he all but growled at Harry. “The natural international state is one of anarchy for a reason, there cannot be an overarching world government - such a thing is not sustainable.”

Harry raised his hands in an attempt to pacify the man’s anger. “Not prior to V-Day perhaps, but the situation is different now. I respect what you’re trying to say, Rabelais, but a world government never worked because people were far too selfish to surrender control to an unbiased body.”

“Precisely what I am-”

Harry’s frim voice cut straight across his protest. “Look at them now, they’re terrified. Sixty-eight percent of the world’s population wiped out in one afternoon. They think that Valentine murdered their leaders. There is no government to regulate the information they’re given. There is no government to be too selfish to surrender.” 

He levelled each man in front of him with a heavy stare, satisfied when neither broke eye contact. “They’re desperate, and if no one takes control then the entire human race is doomed and all of our efforts will have been for naught.” 

He heaved a weary sigh as he addressed Rabelais. “I’m not suggesting this as a permanent solution, I’m simply proposing a temporary fix, just until the people are strong enough to get back on their feet. It won’t be long; as you know, governments are already rebuilding themselves.”

Piedmont was silent for a moment, as he considered the cooling contents of his cup with his brows drawn together and a tight-lipped frown. Rabelais kept his clever eyes fixed on Harry, barely blinking as the older man met his gaze and quirked his brow. The Frenchman cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. Harry was grateful for the man breaking the tension that hung thickly in the air above their heads.

“I will agree, on one condition.”

Harry nodded soberly and motioned for him to continue. “Which is?”

“The world cannot have an invisible leader,” he implored. He glanced to Piedmont, who stiffened in his seat and darted his eyes between the other two men. Rabelais settled his grave stare on Harry. “The people need a face. If you are championing a Kingsman government, then you _must_ be prepared to reveal yourself and everything we have worked a hundred years for to protect and keep hidden.” Harry shifted his gaze downwards to his empty cup and frowned, not recalling when exactly he has finished his tea. Sensing his inattention, Rabelais grew agitated as he tried to reason with the older man. “They will want to know who we are. They will want to know who _you_ are. Are you really prepared to give up a century of secrecy, to give up our security, our safety?”

Harry, having long since made his peace with the idea that Kingsman’s anonymity was at an end – and with no small amount of credit due to Michelle for this revelation – flicked his eyes up to meet Rabelais’s despaired expression. He settled himself back against the plush armchair and gave his full attention to the worried lines of Rabelais’s face as the man in front of him waited for his answer. His measured voice rang clearly through the silence. “For the good of those innocent currently suffering, yes I am.” 

Piedmont spoke softly from his right, “From this moment, here, everything will change.”

Harry turned to glance at him, and nodded. “It will.”

_And we’d bloody well better be ready for it._

Rabelais regarded their exchange with a pinched expression, but something in his face shifted as he considered Harry’s even tone and the utter surety of his words. The harsh lines in his forehead smoothed and the tension drained from the stiff line of his shoulders as he lifted one hand to cover his heart and gave a respectful dip of his head. “As long as you know what you are sacrificing, and as long as you are prepared to commit, then France will stand with you.”

“And Italy,” piped Piedmont from the corner. 

Harry released a breath he didn’t know he was holding as they gave their assent. His eyes slipped closed as a grateful smile spread across his lips – snapping open again when he felt Piedmont shift closer to him. The man’s heavy hand came to rest atop his shoulder. “Do not look so surprised, my friend, there is still some loyalty left in the world.”

Harry breathed a shaky laugh as he rose from his chair to bid the two men farewell. Promises were made and deadlines were set and handshakes were firm – heavy with the knowledge that some incredible deal had just been sealed. 

Rabelais gave him a reassuring pat on the arm as he moved to follow David, but Piedmont kept a secure grip on Harry’s outstretched hand as they said their goodbyes. He leaned forward with a wicked glint in his eyes as he grinned. 

“Once and future King, eh?” 

As he withdrew – dropping Harry’s hand and restraining his laughter at the other man’s shock - Rabelais turned to face them with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He dropped into a slight bow – bent at the waist – and pulled himself upright with an expression of utmost seriousness. 

“Your Majesty.”

David wisely refrained from grinning as he bit the inner flesh of his cheek and hurried to show the two men to their waiting cars. Harry stood in the doorway of his office, blinking slowly as his brain struggled to process what he’d just heard.

_People really need to stop doing that._

Harry was left with this bewildering thought until later that evening when – as he was reviewing the German evening news through his glasses, stomach once again churning at Valentine’s insistence on making a copy of the church’s CCTV – he heard Merlin’s voice grumbling in his ear.

Harry paused the video feed and frowned. “Shouldn’t you be monitoring Eggsy?”

He could almost hear the smirk in the other man’s voice. _“I’m not his handler for this.”_

Harry blinked. “Well then who is?”

_“Nightingale, she came to me last night and requested it, something about wanting to watch his smug little face as he realised she would be calling the shots. Who am I to deny her that pleasure?”_

Harry suppressed a grin, mentally noting to tease Eggsy about it when he returned. “Can you get me a copy of that recording?”

_“Will do. How’d it go with Piedmont and Rabelais?”_

The older man recalled his earlier conversation with the two men and hummed thoughtfully. “They’re both on board, with a lot less convincing that I thought. It helped that Rousseau had already agreed, even if he couldn’t be there himself. He was tied up with Berlin.”

Merlin’s end of the feed was silent for a moment. _“Berlin say anything about Hawk?”_

“No, he doesn’t know. I’m trying to keep it that way for as long as possible.”

He heard the other man breathe a sigh of relief before taking a sip of something – which he apparently burnt his tongue on, judging by the startled hiss. _“Well, if you’re not busy, Washington wants you on line three.”_

“Patch her through.”

Harry removed his glasses and retrieved the tablet Merlin had left for him, opening it to find a little green line of text alerting him to an incoming call. He opened it to reveal the image of a sharply dressed woman in her late thirties - her auburn hair drawn into a soft bun, the reflection of a backlight playing in her apple-green eyes. 

“Washington.” He gave a respectful nod as her lips curved into a sultry grin.

 _“Arthur,”_ she purred, “You’re looking better than I expected.”

“Yes, it’s been years, hasn’t it?”

She raked her eyes across the length of his shoulders, lingering on the line of his jaw and lips before moving swiftly up to focus on his forehead. Her surprise was marked by an almost imperceptible twitch in her painstakingly-sculpted left brow. “Mmm, the scar’s an improvement.”

_Incorrigible woman._

Harry’s own brows rose as he fought back a smirk of his own. “If you say so.”

She tilted her head from side to side, carefully considering his face as though searching for something. Satisfied that she had found it, she straightened in her seat and tapped a perfectly manicured, cherry-red nail at the camera. “You actually look like a proper spy now, instead of a tailor.”

Harry permitted himself a sigh. “It’s called undercover, Washington - not something I’d expect you’re familiar with.”

She quirked her brows and winked. “It’s called showmanship, Arthur. Line secure.”

Harry nodded and spoke, only half joking, “Right, Galahad arrived safely I assume - or are you calling to tell me he’s been abandoned in an airport somewhere?”

Her twinkling laugh was matched by a softening in her eyes as she relaxed back into her seat and smiled fondly at Harry’s predictable worrying. “Relax, both your boys’re here, safe and sound. I like the little one.”

Harry snorted. “Just don’t let him hear you call him that.”

“He’s taken to Eagle well enough, they’ve bonded over PlayStation.” The woman in front of his carefully studied her nails, frowning as she found a chip in the paint on her delicate forefinger. 

“Any idea who your mole is?”

Her quick eyes darted up to meet his as her voice took on a serious note. “Percival’s been tracking the Fathers, but they’re all clean. Galahad seems to share your opinion that it’s someone close to Eagle.”

Harry nodded again, rubbing at his chin absently as her recalled the final report on Kay’s dismissal. “That’s what happened with us, have you any agents that spend extra time with him?”

She paused and glanced down, retrieving a small slip of yellow paper covered in what appeared to be Percival’s chicken-scratch handwriting. 

_There was a reason Harry had him word-process everything._

“Two, Roosevelt and Hoover. My money’s on Roosevelt, he was training to be Eagle’s replacement before he decided to stall his retirement. Hoover just hangs around because she’s in love with the guy.”

Harry frowned, remembering his encounter with the former at a ball some years prior. The two had struck up an easy sort of acquaintance, and until V-Day had kept in reasonably close contact with one another. “I’ve met Roosevelt, didn’t strike me as a turncoat. What about Eagle’s department, who’s his second?”

Washington’s face fell. “Michigan, but she’s been on leave since V-Day. Her whole family got taken out.”

_Something in Harry’s heart clenched as a knot began to twist his stomach._

“I see.”

Sensing his discomfort, she shook her head. “No one else has access to the information that’s been taken.”

“What exactly has been taken?”

Washington pawed through the papers that littered her desk, grumbling about untidy filing systems until she gave a triumphant hum and pulled out a thin, red binder. She began leafing through it as she spoke, “At first it was just financial forms - expenditure approvals and payroll data. Now it’s security footage, training details, mission logs. It’s like they’re trying to gather enough evidence to prove that we exist. Which seems kinda redundant since we’ll be outing ourselves soon enough.” She punctuated her final assertion with a poignant look at Harry and a sad smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

_What’s done is done._

“I spoke with the French and Italians today, they’re both on board.”

She nodded. “Rousseau’s always liked you, and Piedmont’s a reasonable man. Any word from Berlin?”

“Rousseau sent Rabelais in his place today because he was with Berlin, but I haven’t heard anything from either of them yet.”

She hummed absently as she furrowed her brow and raised a finger to point at nothing in particular as she recalled something. “Percival mentioned a call with Bavaria this afternoon, I’ll see if I can get anything out of him.”

Harry didn’t miss the odd tone in her voice. “If I’ve said it once I’ll say it again; _keep your claws off him.”_

She leered at him, as her voice dropped into a low, sultry purr. “Why Arthur, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Before he could respond she had stiffened, alerted to a tapping at her door. Someone said something behind the camera and she nodded, motioning them closer before turning back to face Harry with a smirk.

“Blondie wants a word.” She delicately rose from her seat and started walking away from the camera, the click-clack¬ of her stilettos on the solid wood floor echoing off the wooden walls and ceiling. 

_Blondie?_

Eggsy’s cheerful grin shifted into view as the younger man took Washington’s vacated seat. Harry heard the faint click of a door closing on the other end of the line before Eggsy gave a little wave. Harry’s face broke into a gentle smile as he lifted his hand and returned the gesture.

_Ridiculous boy. Ridiculous, wonderful boy._

Sensing his thoughts Eggsy grinned shyly. “Missed you, alright?”

Harry released a breath as he relaxed at the sight of his partner, his voice achingly fond. “I’ve missed you too Eggsy - my lunch passed quite without interruption, and I’m actually ahead of my paperwork.”

Eggsy winked as he folded his arms and slouched into the chair, “I’ll fix that soon as I get back, babe.”

_Harry refused to believe that the word ‘babe’ uttered in Eggsy’s rough accent was the word that made his stomach flutter._

Eggsy knew of course, and had continued with an infuriatingly knowing grin. “S’nice here – huge, like really fuckin’ huge. Place feels like a city all by itself.” He shifted forward excitedly, “And you’ll never guess where the entrance is.”

“Under the Lincoln memorial, yes I know. Terribly cliché of them.”

Eggsy frowned but recovered his enthusiasm quickly enough. “Nah, patriotic innit? Like you know how Texas is to the States what the States are to the rest of the world?” He waited for Harry to nod his understanding. “Right, well - this place is to Texas what Texas is to the rest of the States. Bloody insane, got flags on everythin’, seriously; anythin’ they could put a flag on’s got a flag on it. And all of ‘em wear these funny wee badges on their jackets, an’ they got earpieces an’ all. Think of the most spy... _iest_ spy organisation ever, and you get the Americans.”

Harry laughed softly. “I did warn you they weren’t the most subtle branch of Kingsman. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

Eggsy nodded. “I am, Eagle’s great, but he’s takin’ the mole thing kinda hard. He’s gotten real protective of all his stuff now, won’t let the rest of his people anywhere near it.”

Harry shrugged as he reminded him, “Betrayal does that, remember when Merlin interrogated each and every one of the handlers after Kay?”

Eggsy’s cheeks dimpled as his smile widened. “Yeah, made them think he’d put truth serum in their tea, like it actually exists.”

Harry blinked. “Oh it exists, and he uses it frequently.”

The younger man’s mouth dropped open as his brows rose higher than the rim of his glasses. “Shit, _really?”_

“Mmmhmm.”

Eggsy paused before leering with a wicked glint in his eyes. “…He ever used it on you?”

Harry coughed delicately and shifted in his chair. “Once, needless to say I now double check anything he hands me for hidden _surprises.”_

Eggsy’s grin didn’t falter as he shook his head. “Fucking brilliant.”

Harry permitted himself a moment to drink in the sight of Eggsy’s bright smile and dimpled cheeks before steering the conversation back to the mission at hand.

“Have you found anything concrete yet?”

Eggsy frowned at Harry’s image on the little screen in front of him. “Not yet, Eagle knows about the mole, so he’s been helpin’ me profile all the staff he has regular contact with, but we ain’t come up with anythin’ solid so far.”

_Profiling? Could be useful._

Harry mentally filed the information away for Merlin, though the other man was undoubtedly already recording the conversation. He turned his attention back to Eggsy. “And how are you getting along with Percival?”

“Good, yeah. I like ‘im. He’s bloody mental, though.”

Harry smirked. “Yes, well he did take over Pyrotechnics from Lancelot’s predecessor – it takes a special type of madness to run that department.” He blinked as he suddenly remembered the events of that morning. “Oh, if you see him, tell him I’ve had to authorise a payment to the Merlin department, if he had anything to do with the incident then he’ll know what that means.”

Eggsy frowned and peered suspiciously at Harry. “What incident?”

“Nothing serious, just a little prank I believe.”

“Percival pranking Merlin? _Fuck_ , he’s brave,” Eggsy whistled.

 _Braver than most_ , Harry privately conceded before responding. “Not so much Merlin as the rest of the handlers.”

Eggsy smirked as he recalled the volatile relationship between the Merlin department and Pyrotechnics. “Even braver. Speakin’ of, did you know Nightingale was gonna be my handler?”

Harry sniffed to hide his laughter. “No, but Merlin told me this evening. I’m terribly sorry.”

Eggsy shook his head. “Nah, s’fine, once you get past her voice. She ain’t a half bad bird.”

“I’ll make sure she hears that.”

The younger man paled at the thought and shuddered. “Oh fuck- please don’t, she’ll skin me!”

Harry grinned, privately taking stock of Eggsy’s bright eyes and relaxed posture. _He’s comfortable then_ , he mused, _he’d never let his guard down unless he felt safe_. Harry sent his silent thanks in Washington’s direction, grateful that Eggsy was in good hands. He settled his attention back on the young man before him, whose nose was adorably scrunched as he considered the formidable Nightingale’s reaction to be dubbed not a ‘half bad bird.’

“I see you have a healthy respect for her talents then.”

Eggsy looked back at Harry and conceded, “She scares me.”

Harry nodded. “As well she should.”

“So does Washington, I can’t figure that one out.”

Harry snorted quietly, surmising that he couldn’t argue with that. “Washington has a rather _peculiar_ personality, she exudes a sort of…understated flamboyance. She’s a paradox, really.”

Eggsy grinned. “Yeah well Miss Paradox’s itchin’ to get her claws into Percival. Hows things with you, have I missed much?”

“Well we’ve sort of…rearranged the furniture – so to speak. Bedivere is surrendering the Weapons department to Lancelot, following an unfortunate mistake that’s cost him his right arm. Bors was furious, of course - the clean-up was an absolute nightmare - but Gawaine’s been needing help in Intel and Admin for years. Caradoc – who ran Weapons with Bedivere – has fully taken over the canine division, Lord knows it’s been helping him far more that the therapy ever did.”

Eggsy supressed a shudder as he remembered that Caradoc’s experiences during V-day made Harry’s look like a playground scuffle.

“That leaves us with one senior agent who isn’t really in charge of anything.”

 _Who’s left at the table?_ Eggsy wondered, before he realised that Harry was gazing expectantly at him.

“That’s me, yeah?”

“The other senior knights have reviewed the CCTV footage of the events that led to your arrest, and they were very impressed with your driving skills. We already have someone in charge of overseeing the hanger and organising transport, but no one who can drive like you can, and certainly not backwards. A proposal has been made; the agents want someone who can teach them… _creative driving_. The post is yours, if you want it?”

“Nobody’ll mind bein’ bossed about by me?”

 _Oh Eggsy._ Harry smiled sadly as he considered Eggsy’s lingering lack of surety around the older knights. The younger man was as secure and confident as any of them, but Harry had noticed that he often deferred to the direction of the older agents. He knew part of it was Eggsy’s unerring respect for the others, but that he remained slightly unsure following his ascension to the ranks on the grounds of a technicality. 

_Harry swore he do everything in his power to reassure his younger lover._

“Not at all, there’s a lot of interest already and there’s only a rumour drifting through the offices so far, nothing’s been confirmed.”

Eggsy all but quivered with excitement, shifting from side to side in his seat and beaming at Harry’s face on the monitor. “Then, _Christ yeah_ , Harry - I’d love to!” He paused for a moment and frowned, his brow crinkled and he tilted his head.

_Harry determinedly pushed all thoughts of ‘puppy’ from his mind._

“But I’m not a senior knight?”

“The knights that sit at the table are the senior knights, it’s got nothing to do with age or experience. There are different tests to replace the lower level knights, and as you were competing to replace Lancelot you passed enough of the tests necessary to make you Galahad – saving the world was infinitely more impressive than shooting a dog.”

Eggsy smirked. “Yeah but, Rox pointed out that you didn’t say _where_ we had to shoot them, she just aimed for the tip of Jasper’s tail.”

“And that is why Roxy is Lancelot.” Eggsy nodded before snapping his head to the side and frowning at the sound of someone’s voice. His face relaxed as he recognised the man in the doorway and he turned back to face Harry with a sheepish grin. “Gotta go, babe, Eagle needs me.”

Harry smiled and waved a hand, “Don’t keep him waiting, and remember to report in with Merlin as soon as you can. He’s got enough on his plate already having to deal with coordinating the other branches.”

Eggsy returned his wave and glanced at the open doorway. Finding it empty, he turned back to Harry and gently pressed his lips to the tips of his fingers before lifting them up to the camera.

Harry – suddenly fighting back a stinging in his eyes – mirrored his actions, closing his eyes as his fingers met his lips, and held his own hand up. Eggsy swallowed past the tightness in his throat and murmured quietly, “I love you.”

Harry returned the sentiment with a tearful smile, “And I you, Darling.”

Eggsy coughed and shifted forward to grasp the side of the camera, his own eyes glistening as he croaked, “Get some sleep, ‘kay?”

Harry promised that he would, unable to tear his eyes from Eggsy’s lopsided grin as the younger man waved again and turned off the video feed.

He sat back in his chair and swallowed heavily, gripping the arms of his chair until the soft leather creaked in protest. 

_Easier said than done._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, trashbag here! Apologies for the late update but I've been bullshitting my way through reports for weeks now and theyre all finally done, you can expect more frequent updates now. Hopefully no one will hit me but fyi the French Kingsman are named for authors and the Italians...for wine producing regions.   
> Also the fact that so many people are loving my Merlin just warms my heart, Merlin is bae.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t trust him,” Eggsy finished somberly. Harry gave a small nod and closed the video feed before Eggsy could say goodbye.
> 
> The younger man was left despondent and almost nauseous with worry while half a world away, his other half was steeling himself to make the most difficult decision of his life.

Eggsy’s eyes darted back and forth between the sea of faces flooding through the international arrivals gate, searching for one amongst the crowd. He hoped didn’t have to wait long in the stifling, late-spring heat – though the sweat had already begun to bead his brow and he’d been tugging at the hem of his sleeves for some time, wishing that he could shuck his jacket and roll up his shirt-sleeves. That would, of course, reveal his holsters and knives – and he was sure that the security guards he could see prowling amongst the baggage carousels wouldn’t take to kindly to his being fully armed. 

His back had just begun to itch as his damp shirt clung to his skin, when he spied the face he was waiting for. Her sharp, hazel eyes honed in on him with practised ease as soon as she stepped through the gate. She hoisted her heavy bag back up on her shoulder before it could slip any further as she pushed her way through the crowd to meet him. 

She stopped in front of him and raked her gaze across his face, instantly noting the pout of his lips and tight line in his brow that betrayed his irritation. “There’s no need to huff,” she grumbled as she pushed past him and drew him away from the crowd around the gate.

Eggsy obediently followed, resisting the urge to scuff his shoes along the tiled floor. “I was doin’ fine by myself,” he muttered.

“Percival was the one who requested backup,” she pointed out with a barely supressed sigh, her shoulders tense as she stalked along slightly ahead of Eggsy. Eggsy hurried to keep himself in step with her, confident that she hadn’t the faintest idea where she was going, but giving her the time to work through her anger all the same. His eyes tracked their progress along the terminal by way of exit signs and he was sure he could easily steer them back again if they made a wrong turn. 

“Yeah? Well why did they send my partner ‘n not ‘is, then? I swear this is Harry and Merlin checkin’ up on me.”

Roxy turned on her heel before they reached the terminal door and jabbed a finger into his chest. Eggsy rocked back to avoid her sharp nail and frowned down at her as she pursed her lips. “How do you think I feel? This is obviously Percival trying to keep me away from- oh never mind.” She spun around again, her loose hair flicking out behind her as she passed through the automatic doors and out into the harsh sunlight. She glared at the offending sky and retrieved her sunglasses from the inner breast pocket of her jacket, slipping them on and glancing round for a taxi. 

Eggsy followed her as she marched along to the front of the taxi rank, stopping at the third in the line and jerking the boot open.

“Away from what?”

It was clear that she was barely registering his input in the conversation as she threw her bags into the car. “I mean, it’s not like I deserve to be in control of my own love life.”

Eggsy frowned and reached to open to door for her. “I’m missin’ somethin’ here…”

Roxy’s eyes snapped up to meet his as though she had only just realised he was standing beside her. “Forget about it.”

Eggsy followed her into the car and buckled himself in as the driver pulled away from the curb. “’Cause you never said how your date with that posh girl went, and I never asked ‘cause you looked right pissed when you got back- and I thought I’d best just leave it till you came to me…but you know I’m here right?”

“Yes, thanks. Lovely.”

Eggsy waited for her to elaborate before prompting, “So how did it go?”

“Great, magical even - until the three of them interrupted.”

“The three of them?”

“Yes, Merlin called to tell me that Percival needed me. And I don’t doubt for one second that Harry was in on it.”

Eggsy hummed his agreement and resolved to ask Harry about it later, feeling it was best to change the topic. “How’d you know which taxi to get in?” He gestured to the sharply dressed man in the front and received a tight nod in return. 

Roxy was focused entirely on the reflections of sunlight dancing across the glass-panelled Airport as they sped through the exit. Without turning to look at Eggsy, she grumbled, “Percival gave me the licence plate number.”

Her mood improved greatly as they wound their way through the towering city, and by the time they had reached what Eggsy had affectionately dubbed _‘The Big Fuckin’ Lincoln’_ she was much less angry at Percival and much more excited at experiencing the famed American branch first-hand.

The two British agents were ushered through a service entrance at the back of the memorial, and into a janitorial cupboard. As their driver locked the door behind them they felt the familiar shudder of gears and machinery and the floor beneath them began to slowly lower them down a long, narrow shaft. 

Roxy eyed the dimly lit space and turned to quirk her brow at Eggsy. “It’s not as glamorous as the shop, is it?”

The man beside her huffed a laugh and shook his head. “This is the guest entrance, they won’t show us how they all get in.”

She nodded at him before darting down to inspect the thin beam of light that appeared near their feet as the shaft opened out into a wide, wooden-clad hallway. 

Roxy stepped out first and peered at the thick carpets and heavy, oak furniture – nodding with approval at the rare paintings that covered the walls. Eggsy hopped off the metal platform and joined her. He grinned and pointed at a copy of Stuart’s Lansdowne portrait.

“Now this is more like it, right?”

She nodded as she considered Washington’s disgruntled face, then turned her head at the sound of a door opening nearby. 

Eggsy followed her gaze and straightened as the woman approached them. _“Washington,”_ he hissed through his teeth, receiving a wry smile from the woman in question.

“Care to introduce us properly, Galahad?”

He relaxed his shoulders at the playful tone in her voice, turning to Roxy and grinning. “Lancelot, this vision before you is the venerable Washington – great leader of the American Kingsman.”

Roxy accepted the offered hand and tried to contain her smile as the woman in front of them dragged her gaze along the length of Eggsy’s body. “Don’t overdo it, Blondie.” Roxy she acknowledged with, “A Pleasure,” before spinning on one pointed stiletto and taking off down the hallway, trusting them to follow.

As she pranced along the carpet, her hair bounced with every step, and they stopped frequently as she warmly greeted whoever darted out from a doorway to wave at her. Roxy found herself enjoying the smaller woman’s soft voice and the rapid pace of their conversation as her mind quickly abandoned one thought for the next.

_Not to mention the older woman’s lingering gaze along her legs whenever the younger happened to walk briefly ahead._

Eggsy seemed to have noticed as well, rolling his eyes and huffing a sigh as they came to a lift at the end of the hall. “Oi, she’s off limits, yeah?”

Roxy froze and glanced at the other woman, only to find her sharp eyes softened with a smile. “Oh don’t you worry, Blondie – I know this one’s not on the market. From what I hear there’s a pretty blonde actress waiting for her back home.” 

The lift carried them up one floor before Washington exited and turned right. Eggsy moved to follow her, but was stopped short by Roxy’s hand on his arm. “Not on the market? Now why can’t he say that to my face?” 

Eggsy shook his head, bewildered, but before he could comment his friend sighed and hurried to catch the older woman, tugging him along behind her. 

They had reached a cross section along the maze of wooden hallways when Washington suddenly stopped and touched the tip of one delicate finger to a small black headset nestled in her ear. Her eyes fixed straight ahead and after a moment of silence she cleared her throat, whispered _‘Understood’_ and turned an apologetic smile to the younger agents.

“I’ll need to speak with you both later, but for now, Galahad, why don’t you introduce Lancelot to Eagle and the others. I’ll be in my office, but try not to need me until three.”

With that she flashed a toothy grin, flounced off to the left and disappeared out of sight.

Roxy made a small noise of surprise in the back of her throat as her auburn topknot rounded the corner. "She's certainly something, isn't she?"

Eggsy grinned and rocked back on his heels before springing off and pulling her further down the hall until they reached a set of solid metal doors that seemed completely out of keeping with the rest of the colonial wooden décor. 

He raised his hand to knock, before dropping it back to his side and turning to face her. “You know the set up here okay? The agents an’ all?”

She nodded, recalling her briefing with Merlin. “Their seniors are named for founding fathers, the lower agents according to states. Their Merlin is Eagle, and from the sound of it he isn’t _nearly_ as contentious.”

Satisfied, Eggsy huffed a laugh and rapped a strange sequence of knocks on the metal. Without waiting for a reply, he pushed one heavy door with his shoulder. 

The light from the hallway flooded into the darkened room, a soft artificial glow coming from a collection of monitors along one wall. In front of the immense screens sat a dark shape that swivelled in response to the door opening. 

_Typical._

Eggsy rolled his eyes and reached out to flick a switch, filling the room with harsh, clinical light. “Eagle mate, you really gotta turn some lights on in here. S’not good for your eyes.”

The man in the chair shrugged and reached back to take a small microphone in hand. “Easy Edison, I got company. Kansas will take over.” He minimised a live video feed, presumably streaming from an agent in the field. 

Roxy’s eyebrows arched high towards her hairline as a cataclysmic explosion erupted from somewhere behind the agent. The image disappeared, and the man stood from his chair and approached them. 

His arm shot forward to roughly clasp Eggsy’s shoulder before he turned to face her. 

The dark-skinned stranger was very tall, and very thin. His hair was shaved close to the scalp, and the same stubble covered the sharp angles of his jaw. Though the skin around his eyes and mouth was furrowed with lines that seemed to deepen as he regarded her, his hair was still jet-black, and two rows of perfectly straight, white teeth were revealed when his thin lips stretched into a wide, feral grin. 

_Roxy puzzled for a moment, and placed his age somewhere between thirty-five and fifty._

She was immediately set on edge by the squint of his dark eyes and the upturn of what seemed to be a perpetual sneer. She barely registered Eggsy’s introduction and only reached for his outstretched hand on reflex. A strange shudder crawled along her spine as she forced herself not to recoil from his touch. 

“A real pleasure, Lancelot – Galahad hasn’t stopped talking about you since he arrived.” He jerked an arm out to elbow her companion, who laughed along with the older man. Eggsy’s warm laughter was choked by the harsh rasp that left the other man’s mouth and Roxy unconsciously drew back from the sound.

Eggsy glanced at her, expecting a fond smile, and frowned when he saw her peering uneasily at Eagle. She soothed him with a quick smile, and he figured her mind had wandered back to what Washington had said.

_Must still be miffed that Percival can’t tell her he approves of that blonde girl to her face._

Sensing Eggsy’s concern, Roxy quickly schooled her expression into one of polite curiosity. But although she smiled and nodded appreciatively as Eagle swept through the room – pointing at the gadgets and gizmos that littered the tables – she couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling in her gut as she followed him through another set of doors and into a cavernous room that faintly resembled Merlin’s own Handling department.

They walked slightly behind Eagle, and as the older man began making his way down the stairs, Roxy felt Eggsy’s thumb brush along the back of her hand and squeeze her forefinger lightly. Her lips quirked with a fond grin as she felt a wave of comfort wash over her and she returned the gentle pressure. She felt Eggsy shift away from her, satisfied that she wasn’t upset and trusting her to make any discomfort known to him.

_She was grateful for his concern, but determined not to betray her anxiety until she could place what exactly caused it. The lack of understanding frustrated her, but something in the back of her mind urged her not to trust Eagle._

They reached the bottom of the stairs and stood back to allow Eagle to make introductions. As Roxy watched Eggsy cross the room and greet his new friends with a lopsided grin, she recalled Merlin and Harry’s final words to her before she’d caught her flight. 

_‘Never ignore your doubts,’_ Merlin had warned, _‘no matter how insignificant they seem.’_

_‘Get too comfortable and you’ll drop your guard.’_ Harry’s words were firm and sure, undoubtedly an oft-repeated mantra.

Eggsy was laughing along with a pretty brunette Handler and Roxy frowned, wondering if he ever felt the same unease is Eagle’s presence and if he had, had he simply dismissed his doubts and gotten too comfortable?

She was drawn from her fretting by a familiar baritone voice drifting easily over the murmurs of the crowd that had gathered around them. 

Percival stepped forward and greeted her with a tilt of his chin and a slight crease in his brow. He, like Eggsy, had noted her anxious behaviour – the tight set of her jaw, the quick movements of her eyes as her gaze darted from stranger to stranger, and the little furrow on her forehead that twitched each time someone spoke.

_She isn’t usually so transparent, mused the older agent. Something’s off._

He watched as she was pulled forward into the crowd – saw her shake the hands that were offered, heard her offer her thanks in response to heartfelt wishes of welcome – seemingly taking the exuberance of the American Handlers in her stride.

He watched the little furrow smooth into nothing and her eyes crinkle with genuine warmth as she was greeted over again and again – the buzz of excitement in the room dampened only after a few minutes, as the reason for this small British invasion was remembered and the assembled agents began to eye each other nervously, assessing very twitch and cough and backwards glance.

It was an atmosphere of distrust that had set him on edge from the moment of his arrival, but something told him that this wasn’t what had caused the little furrow in the first place. 

As he pondered, he saw the furrow reappear. She was standing amidst a group she had been comfortable enough in only moments before, and Percival felt himself frown as he scanned the crowd, trying to discern what had triggered her reaction. His gaze swept from left to right, from the faces of the people standing in front of her to those hanging back to await introduction.

His eyes widened, and he understood what was wrong. 

_Eagle had suddenly appeared behind her._

He inhaled sharply as he realised that his perceptive little protégé was experiencing the same feelings of unease he felt when he first came face to face with the man whose presence seemed to linger for an age after the physical being left the room.

He strode forward, silently urging her not to dismiss her doubts – relieved that he may have found an ally in his distrust of the American. 

Roxy saw Percival approaching from the left and stepped towards him, grateful for any interruption that would allow her to step away from Eagle and his unpleasant voice. Percival flashed a grin at the cord that had gathered around her and, taking her elbow gently in hand, steered her o the other side of the room, where a new group of Handlers were waiting to be introduced.

As Percival turned to call to a nearby Handler to _‘come and say hello,’_ Roxy caught sight of movement in her peripheral - Eagle was slinking back up the stairs to his nest. She turned her head slightly and stiffened when she realised that instead of watching the stairs he slowly ascended, his eyes were still fixed on the side of her face.

Her head snapped to the side when she felt someone tentatively tap her shoulder. Percival was staring intently at her, and once he knew he had her attention, his eyes flicked to the staircase and back as he gave an almost imperceptible nod in Eagle’s direction.

_Right_ , she decided, _don’t trust him._

She saw Eggsy approaching from over Percival’s shoulder, and resolved to voice her concerns about Eagle later. She remained unconvinced that Eggsy’s apparent friendship with the man would allow him to listen to her doubts objectively.

She returned to smiling and nodding as each new Handler was presented to her, baffled by the sheer number of agents it took to run the American division. Eggsy remained by her side, occasionally providing reassuring brushes with his fingers along the ridge of her knuckles. 

As Percival motioned another Handler forward, the door in the far corner of the vast room opened to reveal two new faces – a man and woman that even Eggsy was unfamiliar with. He turned a quizzical brow to Percival who nodded and summoned the pair to his side. 

“Lancelot and Galahad, allow me to introduce Arizona and Wyoming.” He gestured first to the woman – who greeted them warmly and thanked them for offering their help in such a difficult time – and then to the man – who favoured Eggsy with a peculiar look in his eye as he echoed Arizona’s sentiments.

Eggsy watched the man hand a black ledger to a Handler and retreat to a quiet corner to observe the proceedings. Why he wasn’t reporting for a debriefing was beyond Eggsy – the man’s suit was rumpled and dusty, and there was a faint cut running along the length of one dark brow. Instead, he seemed perfectly content to prop himself up against the wall and smirk.

As Roxy struggled to distinguish between a pair of twins wearing identical outfits, much to the amusement of Percival and the other Handlers - a test Eggsy had passed after a few days of careful stalking - Eggsy slipped his inside his pocket and withdrew his phone. He sent a quick text to Merlin.

_Wyoming. Know anything about him? – E_

The scathing reply was delivered seconds later.

_Is that fucking cunt still alive?_

Eggsy was visibly taken aback, dismissing Roxy’s concern with a subtle sake of his head.

_The fuck he do to you? – E_

Eggsy’s eyes darted up to catch the man in question peering at him from the corner, as if he _knew_ that Eggsy was running a check on him.

_Not me. Harry._

His sharp intake of breath drew Percival’s attention, and once again he shook his head. Percival grunted in response.

_Anything I should worry about? – E_

Merlin’s next reply took longer than the others had, and Eggsy was painfully aware of Wyoming’s eyes staring fixedly on his downturned face.

_You once asked me why Harry was so nervous about being in a relationship. There’s your answer._

Eggsy stiffened and recalled that particular conversation with Merlin. 

_“You said Harry wasn’t used to being wanted.”_

_“I’m still not telling you why.”_

_“I’m not asking you to.”_

He was about to ask Merlin what he thought he should do when another line of text flashed onto the bottom of his screen, as though the older man had anticipated his question.

_Break his fucking jaw._

Eggsy barely had time to supress his grin when he sensed someone approaching him from the side. He glanced up, and saw that Wyoming had pushed himself off the wall and was stalking around the crowd of people to get to Eggsy.

The younger man pocketed his phone, his mind racing as he reached out to take the offered hand. He took the opportunity to study the man attached to the appendage.

He was only slightly taller than Eggsy was himself, and next to Harry would have stood around shoulder height. His perfectly sculpted coif was blonde, though the darkness of his brow in contrast suggested it came from a bottle. Eggsy peered closely and saw that his roots were slightly darker than the rest of his hair. His eyes were blue, but hard and cold and staring at him with a nasty sort of glint that matched the feral grin on his face. 

When he spoke, his arrogant voice had a peculiar accent. American yes, but he’d obviously spent a considerable amount of time in England. His mouth struggled with the shape of his vowels and he alternated between speaking from the side of his lips and elongating his words at the front. 

“Galahad,” he purred, “what a pleasure. A real pleasure.”

Eggsy numbly echoed the greeting. Wyoming was still firmly grasping his hand.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but Galahad is Arthur’s right hand isn’t he?”

Eggsy nodded, feeling as though his mouth was stuffed with cotton wadding and his tongue was too heavy to fight past it. 

“Tell me, how is our _dear_ Arthur?” Without waiting for his response, Wyoming pulled him closer into an awkward embrace, patting him on the back with one hand – mindful of the other agents.

His voice was a low whisper in Eggsy’s ear.

“Is he still as eager to get on his knees for a pretty blonde?”

Anger in its purest form, Eggsy quickly discovered upon joining the Kingsman ranks, could be experienced by different people in many different ways. Before he was a Kingsman, Eggsy was very familiar with the all-consuming white hot rage that flooded along his spine and seeped down to his clenched fists – a sensation that most of the people he knew could relate to. It was often accompanied by a shrill ringing in his ears and a tightness in his chest as he threw everything he had into that first punch.

Eggsy soon realised that this approach – as well as the howl of rage that erupted from him before he swung – couldn’t be applied to Kingsman. It gave his opponents a warning. It gave his opponents time to counter. 

Eggsy therefore began to discipline himself. 

He taught himself breathing exercises; long afternoons spent cooped up in Merlin’s private room – with his permission, of course – learning to ignore all distractions and focus entirely on the sound of the air entering and leaving his body. 

He learned how to keep his heartrate under control, with Roxy’s help and some stolen medical equipment that he was sure Merlin knew he took – he assumed permission was therefore granted. 

Gawaine taught him how to keep his body perfectly still while undergoing interrogation training, how to control each and every twitch of muscle until the only sign of life he gave was the flaring of his nostrils when he drew a silent breath.

Thus the white hot rage was replaced by a frightening serenity. Eggsy very calmly rocked back to allow his attackers to take the first swing, skilfully and quietly disarming them with a dislocated shoulder or knee – in some cases a broken neck. In a tranquil daze he stepped over their broken bodies and moved on to seek his next unfortunate target.

Staring at the grinning man in front of him as he drew back from their awkward embrace, time seemed to skid to a halt.

Eggsy slowly titled his head to the side, as he felt the tension drain from his body to be replaced by the terrifying sense of calm. It was a movement that most cold have mistaken for curiosity, and they wouldn’t have been completely wrong – for Eggsy was at that moment quietly pondering which angle would best break the bastard’s jaw.

A deep breath. He smiled. Then he _very_ calmly rolled his shoulder and caught the side of the Wyoming’s jaw with his fist, throwing the entire weight of his body into the punch. Eggsy spun on the ball of one foot, teetering dangerously and catching himself before he fell – watching with great satisfaction as the man collapsed at the feet of the other Handlers.

Seconds ticked by in silence and Eggsy straightened, answered Roxy’s alarmed expression with a wicked grin and a wink, before nodding to Wyoming and turning on his heel.

Only to come nose-to-clavicle with a stony-faced Percival. 

Eggsy sighed and allowed himself to be pulled from the room.

They rounded a corner and came to the end of the hall before Percival relinquished his hold on Eggsy and whirled round to face him. The older man’s jaw was clenched and he was breathing hard, staring at something over his shoulder. Eggsy turned in time to see several heads darting back around the corner, footsteps fleeing back towards the Handlers’ office.

When he glanced back at Percival, the man held his stormy expression for a few moments longer, before relaxing and giving Eggsy a soft smile. He raised his hands and placed them on the younger man’s shoulders. 

“Well done, son.”

_Huh._

Eggsy started to grin, but stopped as Percival quirked his brow and smirked. “Doesn’t mean Washington will be happy about this. She wants to see you.”

He pointed to a door a little further back up the hall and stepped back to allow Eggsy to pass. The younger agent frowned as the older man turned back the way they came, relieved when Percival explained, “Lancelot’s presence was requested also.”

Eggsy pushed the door inwards and stepped into yet another branch in the maze of wooden hallways that Americans called a headquarters. Washington was standing a few feet from the door, a serene smile upon her cherry-red lips.

She waited for Eggsy to close the door before she spoke. “You broke Wyoming’s jaw.”

Eggsy regarded the cool expression on her face that didn’t quite match the amusement in her eyes, before freely admitting, “I did.”

She smirked. “Good boy.”

Eggsy brows climbed into his hairline and he stared, unblinking and confused, at the woman in front of him.

_Good to see Harry’s got friends, but fuck; how many people knew?_

“Uh – thanks?”

She dipped her chin. “Of course,” she began, “I can’t let this go unpunished. It was entirely unprofessional.”

Eggsy nodded, defeated and ready to accept reprimand, but was startled at her next words. 

“You could have at least waited until you got him alone.”

Before he could stammer a response, the door behind him opened and Roxy stepped through, Percival on her heels. He greeted Washington, seemingly unaware - or perhaps just unperturbed - by her predatory grin.

“Percival, thank you.”

Eggsy glanced at Roxy from the corner of his eye, sure they were both thinking the same thing.

_She’d eat him if she could get her hands on him._

Washington dismissed him with delicate wave of her hand and once again, bounced off along the carpeted floors, expecting the younger agents to trot after her.

They were lead down another long hallway, and through a pair of heavy doors. Washington gestured for Eggsy to take a seat by the door as she called out for Roxy to follow her into her office. He tried not to snigger at the alarmed look on her face, pitying her with a hastily mouthed, ‘Briefing’ and settling back into his chair to wait. 

As he lounged in the plush leather he gazed out at the seaside scene through one of the artificial windows adoring the wall in front of him, marvelling again at the American tech department’s ingenuity, and wondering whether or not Merlin could be persuaded to install window-shaped lights that projected any image the user desired into the walls of his own small office.

_He’d like to be able to see the ocean there too._

Across said ocean, Harry Hart sat stiffly in his chair, staring with pursed lips at the report clutched in his hands, and considering – _not for the first time_ – if he would be better off throwing his resignation at Admin and fucking off to some nice, quiet beach along the southern coast of Spain.

He rolled his shoulders, groaning at the tightness he felt at the base of his neck. He dropped the paper onto his desk and reached for the tablet to his right. He opened a secure connection to Eggsy’s phone – grateful for the younger man’s insistence on having a front-facing camera – and tapped his fingers impatiently on the hard desk as he waited for an answer.

After a few moments of silence, Eggsy’s worried face appeared on the screen. 

“Harry, has something- ?”

Harry didn’t wait for Eggsy to finish his sentence before speaking. “Where are you?”

Eggsy frowned. “Washington’s waiting room.” He paused, sensing Harry’s concern. “It’s the safest place here apart from her office, and I know she don’t have this place bugged.”

The older man visibly relaxed, recognising the hue of the wooden panels behind Eggsy’s head. In the corner of the screen he could just make out the curves of the intricately carved wooden doorframe.

“I received some information that I think you should hear.”

The image of Eggsy’s face shook as the younger man swivelled to sit upright in his chair and adjusted his earphones. “Shoot.”

Harry shuffled the papers in his hand, turning them over and steeling himself for a difficult conversation. “Paris and Rome submitted the results of their profiling exercises.”

“Profiling?”

Harry smiled. “After you told me about your efforts with Eagle, I recommended the same thing to Rousseau and Piedmont. They scrutinised every individual that came into close contact with the head of their Handling division and ranked them according to the likelihood of their being the mole.” 

Eggsy frowned and nodded, considering the tight set of Harry’s jaw. “I’m guessing they didn’t find anything useful then?”

_If only._

“Quite the opposite actually.” Harry carefully placed the paper he held back on top of the pile, smoothing his hands along the sharp creases made by his worried fingers. “The only agents who had a high enough clearance as well as the opportunity to access the information that was stolen were the heads of Handling themselves.” 

He paused, staring intently at the stark black signature on the paper before him. The ink curled and jerked after the final letters, as though the document had been torn away as soon as a recognisable enough mark had been made. “Machiavelli has already confessed.”

Eggsy felt a tight sensation of dread constrict his chest as he considered the damage the chief Handler could be capable of if they were so inclined. The thought was inconceivable.

_How much did Machiavelli pass along before he was caught?_

He steadied himself with a breath before shaking his head. “You sure this ain’t a trick? There’s gotta be-”

“The confession is genuine. Piedmont delivered it in person, signed this morning. They’ve already extracted Machiavelli for…disposal.”

Eggsy supressed a shudder before venturing, “Like Kay?”

Harry nodded grimly, “Like Kay.”

“What about Descartes?”

Harry raised a hand to press firmly against the bridge of his nose, basking in the fleeting relief the pressure brought. “Paris was one of the first branches to be notified. Rousseau has already arrested Descartes.”

Eggsy’s mind reeled with the thought that someone vested with so much trust could betray them all so easily. “How can he arrest her just because Machiavelli was guilty? That doesn’t mean-”

He cut himself off at the sight of Harry’s eyes falling closed as he shook his head. “There was a line in Machiavelli’s confession that was deemed enough to warrant Descartes’ arrest.”

“Did he accuse her?”

“Not directly.” Harry cleared his throat and studied the confession in front of him. “’We would not have undertaken such extreme measures had we not believed that the people deserved the truth, and we – the Guardians – made the decision to enlighten them.” 

Eggsy frowned. “The Guardians?”

“An old, off-record slang term for the handlers - more specifically their leaders; like Merlin.”

The younger man stiffened, sensing that something terrible was about to happen. “Merlin?”

Harry gave a heavy sigh and turned his pleading gaze back to Eggsy. “I’ve got Rousseau hovering over my shoulder every time I leave the office. He isn’t saying a word but Piedmont is far less subtle. He’s outright demanding that I arrest and interrogate Merlin.”

The younger man shook his head, his eyes tightly shut as he tried to reason with Harry.

“You can’t do that! It’s Merlin, he wouldn’t – Harry – he just _fucking wouldn’t._ ”

Harry lifted his weary head and forced past the tight lump constricting his throat to voice the terrible thought that had plagued him since early that morning. “That’s what Rousseau said about Descartes.”

_And I said the same about Merlin._

Eggsy’s heart ached at the despair in Harry’s voice and yearned to reach out and hold the man he knew was hurting deeply. He was about to comfort him when his eyes darted towards Washington’s door. He could just make out the sound of the women’s voices getting louder through the heavy wood.

Harry noticed his distraction and cleared his throat to catch the younger man’s attention.

“Sign off, I don’t want Washington to hear this until I have proof.” He hesitated before speaking again, softly this time, “I can’t tell you not to trust Eagle but…”

“Don’t trust him,” Eggsy finished somberly. Harry gave a small nod and closed the video feed before Eggsy could say goodbye.

The younger man was left despondent and almost nauseous with worry while half a world away, his other half was steeling himself to make the most difficult decision of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have suffered a mild catastrophe as those of you who follow my tumblr will already know.
> 
> My laptop has finally given up the ghost after 4 years and several very expensive repairs, and I can't afford to fix it again. My sister is currently studying for her A Levels so she needs her laptop, but has generously offered to lend me it at night.
> 
> I'm working through editing chapter 19 and 20 now, and they'll be up later today or tomorrow.
> 
> I've started a GoFundMe for help, because I won't be able to afford a new one until November, but my next semester of uni starts in September, and I still need it this summer to run my Etsy shop (comicbookshoezone). If any of you lovely readers are able to, I would really appreciate a donation towards my Last resort Laptop Fund. In return for a donation Kingsmanhartwin (Nickygp on here) and I are offering fics and blog promos (original post here - http://kingsmanhartwin.tumblr.com/post/121021096820/fic-commissions-in-exchange-for-donations)
> 
> Any help at all, even a signal boost, would be of tremendous help.
> 
> Thank you, Phoebe
> 
> http://www.gofundme.com/wcd9h8gg


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would first like to apologise if there are any formatting, spelling, or grammar errors - I'm working solely using AO3's text upload box.
> 
> “Well, you want my advice?” 
> 
> Harry stretched his arms out and clasped both her hands in his, squeezing gently and thanking all the world for bringing the woman in front of him – and all her kindness - into his life. “You know I always do, dear lady.” 
> 
> “There’s no higher power than the King himself.” 
> 
> _How on earth…_

Harry’s mind was slowly pulled from sleep by the presence of a much smaller body curled against his, and for a brief moment he allowed himself to relax as he stretched out his hand and prodded his smaller companion in her chubby sides. A delighted giggle tugged a smile from the corner of his lips, and he opened his eyes to find Sophie’s face alight with a grin that was missing more than a few teeth. 

He pushed the errant curls back from her face and brought her closer to his chest, hugging her tightly to him with one hand while the other darted in between her ribs and along the back of her neck. She squealed and trashed in his arms, trying her best to dodge his fingers and fight back. 

“’Arry, no! ‘Aaarryyy!” Her slurred pronunciation broke off with a squawk as she finally broke free and scurried away, cheeks flushed and eyes crinkled with glee. 

He tried to contain the laughter he felt bubbling in his throat as he raised himself onto his elbows to watch the child rolling across the blankets. She narrowed her eyes at him – still giggling uncontrollably - from the bottom of the bed and pouted, and he couldn’t help but shake his head and smile kindly back. 

“Such a serious face young lady.” 

She nodded and her lips quivered with the effort of trying to keep a straight face. “No tickle,” she huffed, crossing her pudgy arms while fighting a grin. “No tickle, ‘Arry.” 

He raised both hands in surrender and dipped his head in defeat. The little girl seemed appeased by his submission, as she rolled onto her side and tumbled off the bed, landing on the floor with a ‘hoof.’ 

Harry snorted and shuffled closer to the edge, peering down to find Sophie pushing herself to her feet. She toddled off towards the door and waited for him, arms outstretched. 

“Yes, yes – I’m coming now,” Harry grinned as he scanned the room for his dressing gown and, finding it draped across the chair by the window, threw back the covers to retrieve it. The impatient toddler whined as she pointed to the stairs and danced in place, and Harry huffed as he tugged on the red robe. 

He glanced to the cushion on the deep window ledge and nodded at the lethargic pug that grunted softly in greeting. 

“Far too early for you isn’t it, my friend?” 

As he crossed the room to Sophie, he slipped his hand into the left pocket of his gown and paused, puzzling at the slip of paper he found folded inside. He drew the neat, white square from his pocket and opened it, flattening the creases with his thumb. 

And then he remembered. 

_13.00_

The hand that dragged across his face suddenly felt as heavy as the rest of his weary body, and he staggered to the bed, dropping down onto the sheets. 

He stared at the numbers staining the paper – hastily scrawled the night before, when he had been too exhausted to consider what they really meant – and felt every ounce of strength leave his body in a great wave. He visibly sagged under the weight of his realisation, and fell forwards with his head in his hands and the points of his elbows digging into the skin above his knees. 

He felt a small – and slightly damp – hand press against his, and he raised his eyes to find Sophie’s frowning at him as she sucked on her other hand. He patted her head and smiled sadly before straightening and taking a deep breath. 

_Absolutely no sense in upsetting her with this._

Harry held his arms out to Sophie and hoisted her into the air. As they passed through the bedroom door and reached the top of the stairs, Harry turned to examine the clock that hung to the left of the bathroom. 

_9.25_

__I’ll need to leave at eleven if I’m going to make it to the briefing, and the others will surely want to talk before hand, and I promised Gawaine I’d find him first._ _

__

He frowned and worried his bottom lip between his teeth. 

_Half-past, I’ll leave at half-past._

He glanced down at Sophie’s insistent tugging on the breast of his robe, and realised that he’d stopped halfway down the stairs. 

“Terribly sorry, Darling, Uncle Harry was distracted for a moment.” She pursed her lips in a serious frown as she patted his face, and he assumed that he was forgiven. 

He carried his precious cargo to the kitchen, and deposited her in her high-chair, before turning to find Michelle clutching a cold mug of tea in one hand while absently flicking trough a kitchen catalogue with the other. She was surrounded by magazines and leaflets – with a half-stack of post-its on one side while the rest poked out from between the glossy pages of every issue – and was alternating between chewing on a piece of dry toast and her own lip. A pot of jam and a knife lay abandoned in front of her, having not quite made it onto the bread. 

Harry squeezed her shoulder as he passed and reached up to fish a plastic cereal container from the cupboard over the sink. 

“What do you think, Harry? Stone or Chalk?” 

“Hmm?” He peered over his shoulder as he measured and poured a half-cup of Sugar Puffs into Sophie’s favourite bowl – a beastly, plastic vessel decorated with singing farm animals. 

“The kitchen worktops, Harry,” she said, shaking her head at him as though he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to her, “Stone-” she held aloft a slip of coloured card, flecks of darker grey and bronze poking through a light grey base, “or Chalk?” She dropped her toast to hold another card up, this time a light cream with spatters of white and very pale grey. 

Harry placed the bowl in front of a very _grabby_ toddler and – retrieving his cup of coffee and another, warmer, mug of tea for Michelle – took a seat opposite her and tried to find somewhere safe to place their beverages. Michelle tutted impatiently and shuffled the magazines out of the way - uncovering the coasters - and took the mug from Harry. She then presented him with the two slips of card and repeated her initial query. 

“Stone, or Chalk?” 

Harry sipped his coffee, grimacing at the taste and pondered whether or not Michelle could be convinced to let him put _just a little sugar_ in it. “Chalk,” he nodded at the card in her right hand. 

Michelle peered at the colour again, and decided that, as Harry’s advice could be trusted under normal circumstances, he was probably right once again. 

She set aside her clippings and catalogues, and gratefully seized her fresh mug of tea. She grinned at her laughing toddler, and turned her attention to the man in front of her. 

He was slouched in his chair, staring into the wisps of steam rising from his coffee, and seemed to her smaller, and sadder, than she’d ever seen him before. She placed her mug to the side and reached forwards, taking his cold hands in hers, and smiled. 

“Harry?” 

He returned her smile as best he could, and she felt her heart clench. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, babe, but I’ll help if I can – you know that, right?” 

The world beyond the kitchen window had suddenly grown darker, greyer, and the first spits of rainfall began to dapple the panes of glass. 

Harry sighed and withdrew from her grip, pushing his coffee aside and wincing as it caught the edge of the coaster and sloshed over the rim to fall on an image of a pristine, white kitchen. He turned an apologetic smile to Michelle, and was relived to find she hadn’t even noticed.

He hesitated before shrugging. “It’s…delicate.” 

Michelle nodded. “Classified?” 

“To the highest degree.” 

“Well, why don’t you gimme the quick version?” 

Harry glanced helplessly about the table and down to his clasped hands, struggling to find a way to explain his predicament. “I- there’s been a-” 

Michelle shook her head and squeezed his hand. “Take a deep breath, love, and start again.” 

To his right, Sophie sat gurgling in her chair, reaching into her bowl and shoving great fistfuls of yellow Sugar Puffs into her mouth. She hummed as she munched happily with every bite. 

Harry’s eyes darted to Michelle – who sat, softly cooing at her daughter – and back to Sophie and her sticky, outstretched fingers. He reached across the table and shook the offered appendage. 

“You put her in with me again.” 

The woman across from him grinned as she handed him a napkin. “You sleep better wi’ someone there,” she admitted, wiping her daughters face and rolling her eyes as the little girl tried to squirm away from the damp cloth. She absently began to coil Sophie’s curls around her fingers as she spoke, watching Harry’s thoughtful frown from the corner of her eye, and snatched a banana from the bowl on the table. 

“You ain’t told me what’s wrong yet.” 

Harry answered without glancing up from his folded hands. “Someone I trust with my life might just have betrayed everything we’ve been working for.” 

“What’d they do? They tryin’ to pull a Valentine after all the work you lot’ve put in to clean the place up? Eggsy was sayin’ ‘fore he left that the Knights’ve been run ragged these last few months.” 

Michelle paused in her petting, and Sophie took the opportunity to smash her fingers against the yellow fruit her mother had just cut for her. While her mother tutted and tried to stop her, Harry smiled at the mess she made. 

_She’s quite partial to a yellow breakfast._

Turning his attention back to Michelle, he smiled ruefully, “You really shouldn’t know half of that.” 

She winked. “Try an’ stop me, babe.” 

Shaking his head and glancing to the window at the sound of heavy droplets hammering against the glass, Harry frowned and held his hands out to the younger woman as he slouched against the back of his chair. “I can’t give you any more than that, Michelle, and this time I really do mean it,” he shrugged. 

Michelle nodded firmly and surrendered the rest of the banana to her fussy toddler. “Right, well – this person, d’you trust them?” 

Harry stiffened in his seat, and answered – for the first time that morning – with utter surety. “After Eggsy, you and the baby, they’re the most important person in the world to me.” He paused, running the edge of a glossy leaflet between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, and swallowed around the tightness in his throat. “They’ve saved my life more often than I care to count,” he admitted. 

_Certainly more often than I deserve._

His last confession came as a pained whisper. “He’s like a brother to me.” 

Recognition dawned on her face, as she coughed past her last mouthful of tea. “Baldy?” 

Harry’s eyes widened as he straightened, and Michelle quickly schooled her alarmed expression back to one of concern for her friend. Before Harry could respond to her exclamation, she held up her finger and pointed at his chest. “Listen to me, Harry Hart. If he’s never given you a reason to doubt ‘im before, then there’s no sense in startin’ now. This new world’ll drive you crazy if you let it, and you need the ones you trust now more than ever.” 

Harry sighed, defeated and weary. “It’s not that simple. It isn’t entirely up to me now; higher powers have gotten involved.” 

Michelle sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed thoughtfully. 

_A habit Eggsy seemed to have inherited, he noticed fondly._

“Well, you want my advice?” 

Harry stretched his arms out and clasped both her hands in his, squeezing gently and thanking all the world for bringing the woman in front of him – and all her kindness - into his life. “You know I always do, dear lady.” 

“There’s no higher power than the King himself.” 

_How on earth…_

She stifled a laugh at his startled expression, and shrugged one shoulder as she stood to carry her mug to the sink. “I’ve heard Eggsy call you that sometimes, and that pretty friend of his – the one he calls Lancelot.” 

“How did you-” 

Michelle silenced him with a click of her tongue and a hand against the back of his neck. She lowered her lips to his ear and whispered with a smirk. “I listen, Harry. I listen.” 

She bent down to pick up the crumbled piece of paper that had slipped from his pocket, and unfolded it, her eyes scanning the paper and widening before flickering to the wall. She frowned as she handed it back to him. 

“You’ll be late.” 

A cursory glance at the clock to his left, and he realise that she was right. As he hurried from the kitchen, Harry paused in the doorway and turned back to her. 

“Michelle?” 

She peered over her shoulder at him, her daughter balanced on one hip while she busied herself with cleaning up the ground banana and Sugar Puff slop that Sophie had gleefully worked into the corners of the high-chair’s tray. “Hmm?” 

“Stone.” 

She frowned, and shifted the little girl higher on her hip. “You what?” 

Harry coughed to clear his throat and gestured to the magazines littering the kitchen table. “I’ve changed my mind, go with Stone – for the worktops.” 

Michelle smiled and waved him off as she threw the wadded up balls of kitchen tissue into the bin by the door. 

“You’re allowed to change your mind, Harry, you’re only human.” 

Harry’s mind latched onto her words, and stayed firmly fixed around them as he dressed and rushed to the shop. They lingered in the corner of his thoughts as he lowered himself into the cramped shuttle – determined to ask Merlin to redesign the damn thing so it didn’t feel so bloody claustrophobic, before realising that after the next few hours he mightn’t ever get the chance – and circled round and around his head as he grasped the cold handle of the door leading out of the shuttle bay. 

He tried to calm his racing heart with measured breaths, and had only just composed himself when he heard heavy footsteps approach from the other side of the door. He raised his eyes and found Piedmont staring grimly at him through the glass. 

Harry grimaced as he pushed the door open. Before he could speak, the man in front of him snapped to attention and handed him a red ledger.

Harry nodded, grasped the plastic sleeve and scanned the first page, his eyes skimming over the prearranged questions and coming to rest on the duplicate print of Machiavelli’s confession. 

_“Everything is going to change.”_

Piedmont’s earlier statement had been spoken as softly as Michelle’s assurance that he could change his mind had that morning, but in the silence of the cold, grey corridor, they began to suffocate Michelle’s kind words. 

He folded the covering sheet of plastic back over the ledger and glanced at Piedmont. Barely a week before the man in front of Harry had stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the face of Rabelais’ opposition. He’d spoken of loyalty and friendship, and while Harry knew in his heart that Piedmont was following protocol, he couldn’t help but feel keenly the sting of betrayal. 

Piedmont’s face pinched and his mouth pursed as he cleared his throat and murmured gruffly, “I am sorry, Sir, that this has happened. No one wanted to believe them capable of such a thing-” 

Harry’s temper flared as he interrupted the man. “You know as well as I that Machiavelli was perfectly capable of doing what he did, and it isn’t a surprise to anyone that he was guilty,” he snapped, striding ahead of Piedmont and stalking down the polished hall. The footsteps behind him squeaked across the tiles as the other man hurried to catch him. 

“Yes, Sir, but Merlin-” 

Harry stopped and whirled on his heel to face the startled Italian, practically spitting at him as he hissed, “Merlin has been nothing but faithful to Kingsman - and to me. He’s better than any man I’ve ever known and I want it recorded that I don’t believe a word of the accusations that have been stacked against him!” 

In the quiet that followed his outburst, the lights above them hummed and fizzled. Harry’s anger crackled from him in shocks, and Piedmont took another step back in something not quite so far from fear. Harry seemed to start at the movement, and his shoulders slumped forward. 

“I apologise,” he murmured, tiredly, and he extended a hand to the wary man before him. 

Piedmont nodded and accepted the apology. “As am I, my friend.” He hesitated before stepping forward and grasping Harry’s shoulder, forcing the other man to tear his gaze from the floor. 

“I did warn you, that everything would be different.” He paused, waiting for Harry’s nod of assent and cleared his throat. “The world had changed, Arthur, and we cannot be too careful.” 

He sensed Harry’s impending rebuttal and raised a hand to cut him off before he could find offense. “If Merlin is guilty – _if,_ Sir, I say _if_ – then we must be grateful to have found another traitor. But if you are right - and there is every chance that you still might be - and he is innocent, then he will understand, Sir, and I have no doubt that he will agree with me when I say

_; we cannot be too careful.”_

Harry, placated by Piedmont’s surety – and willing to admit that Merlin was always the first to remind him that in their line of work it was _‘better to apologise than ask for permission’_ – nodded and reached up to grasp the hand still settled on his shoulder. 

“He is innocent.” 

Piedmont smiled sadly and dipped his head. “If you say so, Sir.” 

"Where's Gawaine? I have to-"

"Forgive me, Sir, but there's no time for that. Gawaine will meet you afterwards." The older agent stepped aside and held out his arm, and Harry stood a little straighter as he took the lead.

Harry’s journey to the little white room at the end of the hall was the longest of his life. Interns lined the corners of junctions and crowded in doorways, and Harry – coming closer and closer to the door, and growing weaker and weaker with every step – felt far too weary to scold them. His feet were weighted down, sticking to the floor and slowing his pace to an exhausted shuffle. Blood pounded in his ears and all around him the whispers and murmurs of his audience hushed and faded until nothing could be heard but the low hum of the florescent bulbs above him. 

Handlers hovered in a cluster by Gawain’s office, and the large, bear-like man, stood stony-faced and silent behind them, joining the mournful crowd in their vigil. 

His hand hovered above the metal latch, and he tilted his head to the side, catching sight of Piedmont’s ashen face frowning at him. Over the Italian’s shoulder, Rousseau himself stood – jaw clenched and lips drawn into a tight line – and nodded once, determined and regretful. 

Harry returned the greeting with a slow blink and squeezed the pad of his thumb against the cold square of glass above the latch. The shrill chirp and hiss of the door as the metal bars on the other side slid from their place echoed in the hallway, and Harry felt, rather than heard, the intake of breath from everyone standing just behind his shoulder. 

Fists were clenched and teeth grated as their withered King pushed the door open – scarcely wide enough to allow him to enter – and stepped through. 

Harry’s eyes were closed as he pressed the door shut behind him, feeling the metal vibrate as the bars locked themselves in place again. He would open his eyes to a bright, white room and a man he could never have dreamt of seeing sitting in one of two horrendously uncomfortable chairs. 

He waited with bated breath as the door chirped again and he was left in silence, his eyes still firmly shut against the enormity of their so very dire situation. 

Someone snorted and cleared their throat. 

“Hello, Arthur.” 

_You’ll have to open your eyes sooner or later, old boy._

While Harry was pressing his back against the cool metal door and fighting to find reason in his refusal to look at Merlin, Eggsy was scuffing his feet along the polished wooden floor and glanced at Roxy’s perfectly straight posture as he waited for Percival to join them. 

_It’s eight in the mornin’, and its Saturday._

“Oi, Rox?” 

He peered across the room and smirked at the young woman sitting in the armchair by a table laid for coffee for three. Her eyes snapped up from the screen of her phone and she blinked at him. 

“Why’d he want us up so early?” 

His friend rolled her eyes and mumbled something under her breath about _‘payback,’_ and _‘cantankerous old men,’_ and Eggsy swallowed his laughter, content that early hour was yet another backhanded tactic in the subtle war the other two agents seemed to be engaged in. He turned his attention to the smell of coffee. 

Inhaling deeply, he felt a smile creeping onto his face – the scent reminded him of home, and of the ridiculously expensive Turkish blend that Harry claimed as his one and only vice. 

_Yeah, along with the thirty-odd others, like the chocolate biscuits, and the imported tea, and-_

Eggsy’s inner rambling was cut short by Percival’s less than timely arrival. 

Percival pressed the flat of his palm to the wood as he grasped the handle firmly, and closed the door behind him with a soft click. Spinning sharply to face the younger agents, he nodded his greetings to the young woman frowning at him and elected to ignore the younger man’s infuriating smirk. 

“You’re late,” muttered Roxy from the corner, already standing to pour his coffee. He declined any addition and raised a brow at the accusation in her voice, removing his glasses and tucking them into his pocket. The younger agents glanced at one another – Eggsy hesitating for a moment before Roxy gave a shuttle shake of her head - and did the same. 

“Washington,” he offered, stiffly, as he thanked Roxy with a tense smile for the offered cup. He settled himself in the chair next to hers and motioned for Eggsy to approach. 

Roxy pressed her thumb to Eggsy’s as she handed him his coffee and – grateful for her unerring need to offer support - he thanked her with a wink. 

They watched as Percival took a long, slow sip of the dark liquid – wincing slightly at the temperature – and placed the cup on the table beside him, correcting the position of the spoon with the tip of his forefinger. The deliberate action set Eggsy’s nerves on edge, and his eyes darted to the right to catch Roxy stiffening and foregoing her own coffee in favour of bracing herself. 

Percival considered the two agents before him as he fingered an errant piece of lint on his trouser leg. 

“You’ve done what I asked?” 

Eggsy released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, and shifted in his seat as Percival’s heavy gaze fell upon him. Percival was a blessedly straightforward man, who didn’t much appreciate wasting time with unnecessary chit-chat when there was an important matter a hand. 

_If anythin’ was wrong wi' Merlin he wouldn’t be faffin’ about wi’ questions._

The younger man swallowed and caught a glimpse of Roxy relaxing back as the tension drained from her stiff shoulders. “I did, yeah. Told eagle I’d need the afternoon off for briefin’ wi’ you two.” 

“Lancelot?” 

“You already know Washington agreed to release me, and I wasn’t engaged anywhere else.” 

Eggsy winced at the sharp bite in her voice, and reverently wished that whatever had happened between his friend and her mentor would be resolved quickly. He was getting tired of the uncomfortable air that persistently saturated their conversations. 

Her tone went unnoticed by the older agent, who simply waved his hand and turned his attention back to Eggsy. “Let’s get down to it then, shall we?” 

No further prompting was needed, and Eggsy set his coffee aside – the cup clattering on the tray in a far less delicate manner than the older man’s had - and prepared to deliver his observations of Eagle. He unbuttoned the suit jacket he was wearing and splayed his legs wide across the cushioned seat, smirking at Percival’s indignant expression and Roxy’s stifled grin. 

He sniffed. “Been watchin’ Eagle since Harry told me to keep an eye out, an’ he’s doin’ summit shifty alrigh’.” 

“How so?” piped the young woman beside him. 

Eggsy grinned. “Can’t you see it?” 

“Enlighten us, Galahad,” came Percival’s exasperated sigh. 

Eggsy’s tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip as he allowed himself to bask in the knowledge that for a brief moment he knew the most about the suspected traitorous plot to overthrow Kingsman than even Arthur himself did. 

His victory was short-lived, prematurely cut down by Percival scolding him with a sharp, _“Galahad,”_ and a pointed look. 

Eggsy heeded the warning with a sheepish grin. 

“Look,” he began, his expression losing all trace of mirth and turning cold, “he’s hiding somethin’.” The other leaned ever so slightly forward in their seats, intrigued. “Half the time I ask him what he’s doin’, he spins some shit about profilin’ – _an’ I know that we got everybody already_ – an’ tells me to go take a break.” 

He paused, and thought back to the Handler’s violent outburst the evening before. “Then when I ask to see something he loses his shit ‘fore he sees what it is. Every damn time I pick up a folder or access a file from his records – then he makes some shit up about being nervous and how sorry he is that he snapped but he’s so stressed and…bollocks.” He cut himself off with a snarl and shook his head. “It’s bullshit, that’s what it is, bullshit – an’ I know why.” 

Percival’s eyes widened in alarm as the hand that had been propping up his chin dropped to land across his lap. “The Guardians’ arrests,” he whispered. 

Eggsy confirmed the older agent’s suspicions with a sombre nod. “He’s nervous now.” 

Percival’s eyes began darting back and forth between the window and the door, and he leapt from his seat, pacing the length of the room while the younger agents tracked his agitated movements. 

“He’s thinking he’s next, but why?” he seethed, one fist clenched at his side while the other was raised – open-palmed – to the ceiling. “If he’s been so careful all this time, then why would he suddenly have cause to think that he was on the verge of being discovered?” 

Eggsy frowned, Merlin’s name on the tip of his tongue, but stopped short and reared back in astonishment as Roxy suddenly exploded from her seat to confront Percival, nose to chest. “Would someone please care to explain what the _bloody hell_ is going on!” Her frantic gaze was torn between Eggsy and Percival, until the older man cleared his throat and steered her back to her seat. 

His explanation was offered quietly, mindful of the great secret he was revealing. “Two of the chief Handlers have been arrested and disposed of so far.” 

“Who?” she demanded, her eyes snapping to Eggsy, silently pleading for him to absolve the terrible thought that had just entered her mind. Eggsy felt a cold chill begin to spread across the back of his neck, and he glanced helplessly at Percival. 

The Knight drew her attention back to him with a prod to her shoulder. “Machiavelli and Descartes. They have another suspect but I don’t know who – Arthur refuses to reveal that information until they have conclusive evidence.” 

A single spasm in the skin above his left eye was the only indication of Eggsy’s surprise at the honest bewilderment in Percival’s statement. 

_He doesn’t know. Harry hasn’t told him._

He turned to look at Roxy, whose fingers were drawn together in a steeple under her chin as her brow furrowed in concentration. 

_She doesn’t know either._

All of a sudden, the idea of knowing more than the other two didn’t seem so very tantalising, and a sour feeling reared up from his stomach to settle its claws in his chest and throat. He studied Roxy’s face - her wide, brown eyes puzzling at him under the scrutiny – and he knew he’d never willingly give those big brown eyes any cause for grief. 

“They’d have told us who it was if it was anyone close to home.” 

He ignored Percival’s noncommittal grunt coming from his left, and tried to keep the twisting sensation of guilt at the sight of Roxy’s relived smile from showing on his already strained face. The young woman reached for his arm and held it tightly in her grasp, soothing him with a softly whispered, “Harry would tell you if something was very wrong, I’m sure.” 

He nodded and swallowed around the lump in his throat, pulling back with a pat to her hand and hiding his tight smile behind the rim of his cup, drawing what little comfort he could from the familiar scent of home. 

_I hope Harry’s day is going better than this._

Incidentally Harry’s day was not going any better. 

Not at all. 

Once he'd taken a moment to collect his erratic thoughts, Harry had steeled himself with a measured breath and tentatively opened his eyes. They widened in shock - entirely unprepared for the sight of the man before him. 

Merlin's nose had been bruised across the bridge, and another dark flush was spreading over the meat of his cheek. Harry's incredulous expression was met with a wry grin, and although the only words they shared for the next ten minutes were a croaked, _'Coffee?'_ and an equally quiet, _'Yes, thank you,'_ in answer, Merlin's rueful smile comforted him and settled the queasy feeling that had been gripping his chest. 

He now stood with his back to the other man - one hand stirring the cloud of milk into the coffee, and the other clutching a deceptively innocent vial of clear liquid. Harry's teeth grated painfully against each other as his mind fought to come to a decision. 

Protocol dictated the necessity for the serum. But Harry so very desperately wanted - _needed_ \- to believe that he could trust Merlin to tell him the truth without it. 

Across the room, Merlin's heart ached for his friend. The tight lines of Harry's shoulders as the man hunched over the coffee tore at something within the bald man, and when Harry's hands began to tremble - the tremors causing the spoon to rattle quietly against the side of the cup - Merlin clenched his fists - his nails leaving half-crescent indents in the soft flesh of his palm - to prevent himself from jumping up and offering his help. 

_It went against his nature to deny Harry comfort when the other man was in need._

His gaze fell to the table in front of him, and as he stared at his clasped hands he sent a silent prayer of thanks to whoever had realised that physical restraint was useless against a Kingsman agent. Any Knight worth their salt could free themselves in under eleven seconds. 

The record, six seconds, had been - unsurprisingly - set by their very own delinquent during the earliest days of his training. Merlin had only just finished securing Rufus when Eggsy had strolled over, with the cuffs dangling from his forefinger, and returned them with a smirk. 

_Harry was forced to pretend to be only mildly offended that Eggsy had been the one to break his eight second record._

Mercifully handcuffs were therefore redundant when the one being apprehended was a Kingsman agent. He'd been retrieved from his office by Gawaine, and the solemn man had kept three paces behind him as he was marched through his Handlers and across to the lift. 

His Handlers. 

_Bless them._

The other Knights had been there to prevent Merlin resisting if necessary, but instead they were left to physically restrain the enraged Handlers that surged forwards to try and stop them. 

Merlin had bitten the inside of his cheek as he was paraded through the halls and led to the white room to await his interrogator. He'd known better than to ask Gawaine who it was, but he found he couldn't help himself, and asked anyway. 

Gawaine had grimaced, and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder - squeezing tightly - before stepping back. Merlin had known then that it would be Harry. 

Harry, and no one else. There were only two chairs in the room - no need for guards at the door or inside. It was simply enough that the crowds undoubtedly gathered outside the room knew that should a senselessly violent notion take hold of him, the man in front of him would be more than enough to neutralise the threat. 

_Merlin quashed the pang of sorrow deep in his gut at the thought._

The pang rose and clawed its way to his chest, where it began to wind its constricting grip around him as Harry turned back to face him - coffee in hand - while slipping something back into the breast pocket of his jacket. With a heavy heart and a watery smile, Merlin accepted the drugged coffee and raised his cup to Harry. The other man mirrored his gesture and slumped into the seat opposite his own, wincing as the uncomfortably hard plastic dug into the curve of his spine. 

Merlin cursed the waver in his voice as he tried to reassure his wilting friend, "It's all right, Harry." 

The reply came curt and pained. "I have to ask." 

"I know." 

The heavy weight settled around Harry's shoulders again at Merlin's easy acceptance, but a glance in the other man's direction - his face pinched, his mouth tight and his eyes bleary - revealed that perhaps the admission was not so easy after all. 

_The man across from him was just as broken as he was._

Harry afforded him ample time to compose himself and finish his coffee, the standard-issue clock - blank-faced, brand-less, thin handles and spindly figures - marked each painful second with a punishing stroke and a 'tick' that seemed perfectly synchronised with the muscle leaping in Harry's jaw. 

With a solemn nod, Merlin drained the dregs of coffee and Harry reached forwards - chair squeaking - to press the red button on the thin, black recorder that sat in front of Merlin. 

He closed his eyes and exhaled - nostrils flaring - and began his grisly task. 

"Was there ever any communication between yourself and the individuals who shall henceforth be known as _The Guardians?_ " 

"Never." 

Harry felt like applauding Merlin's composed and indifferent tone, marvelling at the fact that while the man in front of him appeared to be struggling to hold himself together, to those listening in the adjacent room - _Piedmont, Rousseau, Berlin if he'd made it in time_ \- they might as well have been discussing the evening traffic report, rather than Merlin's accused treason. 

Harry lowered his gaze to the light next to the recorder - green to proceed, amber to hold - and waited for the signal, aware that the occupants of the other room were scrutinising every response Merlin gave. 

"Did you have any knowledge of Machiavelli and Descartes' plans?" 

"None whatsoever, it was only after you gave the order for Europe-wide profiling that I began to suspect anything." 

Three minutes of silence before the amber light flickered to green. 

"And Eagle?" 

Merlin hesitated before responding, blinking slowly and running his tongue over his bottom lip. His eyes flickered from the folder in Harry's hands, to the light on the table and across to the wall - behind which he knew the heads of the European factions were hanging on his every word. 

An encouraging nod from Harry towards the blinking green light, and he continued. 

"I've never trusted him," he admitted to the recorder. His eyes suddenly rose to meet Harry's, and - breaking protocol - he voiced the question he'd been struggling to hold back since the moment he'd been led from his office. 

_I need to know._

"Has he been convicted?" 

Harry didn't bother waiting for the green light to reappear before he answered. "There isn't enough proof, unless you can give us any?" 

Merlin's earnest eyes bored into Harry, as he shook his head and the first indication of his exhaustion broke through in his voice, "You know I can't, Sir." 

Harry could feel the tension in the other room seeping through the angrily blinking amber light. 

He sighed, and closed the ledger, reaching forwards to press his finger against the recorder. 

"I believe you." 

He turned it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a late update I'm so sorry, but I can only type up what I've written on paper whenever I have access to a laptop, and I haven't been able to lately because everybody needs theirs for work and uni applications. But thank you all for sticking with me, especially those of you who donated to my laptop fund, you guys are amazing!
> 
> This fic is finished on paper, and over the next week I'll be typing it up and updating at least once a day!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What is it about me that attracts power hungry fucks with no understanding of the meaning of loyalty?"

_“I believe you.”_

_Oh thank fuck for tha’._

Merlin felt himself buckle under the crushing tide of relief, his breath leaving him in a staggered sigh as he slumped forward in his chair and rested his forehead atop his folded arms. He didn't realise he was shaking until the moment he felt Harry's warm hand curling around the back of his neck to steady him.

As the weight of the tender pressure seeped deep into his bones to coil around his aching heart, he felt something within him break.

Time inched along the circumference of a white clock-face, and they grieved together in silence. Harry's thumb dragged across Merlin's clammy skin in broad strokes, catching the prickles of raised flesh - _he wasn’t cold, so why the goose bumps?_ \- as the man beneath his touch fought to calm his racing pulse, and stifle the hitches in his breath and the whimper that caught in the back of his throat.

Merlin swallowed around a particularly tight knot and - grateful for Harry's foresight in turning the recorder off - dug his heels into the cold, metal table. He pushed his body up and threw his arms around Harry's waist.

The other man - unflinching - readily accepted the embrace, soothing his distraught friend with whispered apologies that were answered by muffled assurances of forgiveness.

Harry struggled to contain the stinging tears that threatened to spill across his cheeks, and did the only thing he could think to do. He knelt by Merlin's chair and guided the other man's damp face to his, slotting the contours of their noses and foreheads together. He held him in place with a gentle grip on his jaw, and Merlin's low keening broke with a gasp as sobs began to wrack his trembling frame. His shaking hands wound their way around Harry's neck and clung to the other man like a lifeline. 

His tearful grin widened as the realisation that he would be set free finally began to permeate his fractured thoughts.

_He wasn't being charged._

_Harry believed him._

They stayed pressed together until Harry's knees began to ache, and he gave the base of Merlin's skull one last parting squeeze in comfort before rocking back with his legs folded beneath him.

He offered a crisp, white handkerchief to Merlin, who shook his head and produced a wad of tissues from the back pocket of his slacks. Harry wiped his own tear-stained face, and voiced the thought that was troubling him. “They won’t be able to accept this – you being the only innocent Guardian – not if Eagle and the other turn out to be guilty too.”

Merlin's hoarse croak was punctuated by a self-depreciating smirk. “Think you’ll be able to convince them, or am I going to have to start looking for my own replacement?” he asked, not entirely joking.

Harry favoured him with a sad smile as he tucked the soiled cloth back into his breast pocket. "You'll have to stay here while I-"

Merlin raised a hand to stop him - glad he was no longer trembling - and his face softened at Harry's stricken look. "Go, Harry, it's alright. Go an' convince them - if ye can..."

Harry - rising to his feet with the awe-inspiring conviction of an outnumbered soldier entering the fray - stared down at his friend, and a thin, unpleasant smile spread across his weary face.

“They call me their King? Let’s see just how well they’re willing to obey.”

He turned on his heel - pressing his thumb onto the pad of the door with entirely more force than necessary - but was stopped by Merlin's quiet call. “Harry?”

He glanced back over his shoulder to see his friend sitting - ramrod-straight and proud - in the stiff plastic chair. He grinned.

“Love live the King.”

_First thing tomorrow I'll be having words with him about that._

Harry returned the sentiment with a grumble and a wave, pulling the door towards himself and stepping into a corridor that - if possible - seemed even more crowded than before.

Gawaine took a hurried step forwards, his face simultaneously eager and pained, but Harry's attention was grasped - quite literally - by the heavy hand that tugged on his shoulder. He was dragged to the right to come nose-to-nose with a seething Rabelais.

"What in God's name do you think you are doing?" he spat.

Harry calmly removed his handkerchief once more to dab at the droplets of spittle covering the lapels of his jacket, and levelled the irate agent with a distasteful frown as he removed his glasses to clean them. He replaced them - perched on the end of his nose - and peered at the Frenchman from over the tortoiseshell rims. 

He favoured the rest of the - blessedly less hostile - agents behind Rabelais with the same, cold stare. Rousseau met his eyes with a challenge, and after a moment of silence he bowed his greying head and strode forward to stand at Harry's side. Piedmont swiftly followed suit, greatly relived to be able to do so, and patted Harry's shoulder as he passed. 

"You were right, my friend," he whispered, as he took his place behind Rousseau. 

Rabelais shot a panicked look over his shoulder as the twin Russian agents shared a pointed look and stepped towards their King, the _'click-clack'_ of pointed heels echoing in the hushed hallway. The crowd to his right stiffened with bated breath as Rabelais turned his disbelieving stare to Harry.

"You cannot support this insanity!" 

His eyes darted wildly about the corridor. A thickly accented, bass voice came from behind Rabelais. "Hawk is innocent, as is the Keevee."

Harry's eyebrows climbed into his forehead. "How long have you known."

"Since this morning."

Harry's eyes narrowed as he considered Berlin. "Why didn't you tell us?"

The man in question had propped himself against the wall, his height easily dwarfing those around him even as he stooped over. He shrugged as he pushed himself upright and made towards Harry and the others.

"I was waiting for the right time. Now-" he flashed a feral grin at the suddenly subdued Rabelais "-is the right time."

Harry accepted his outstretched hand with a grateful nod. "I do wish you wouldn't call her that."

"Call who vaht?" 

_"The Kiwi." ___

____

The German smirked and dipped his head, then threw an icy glare at those standing opposite him.

With Berlin's approval, those who had not followed with Rousseau now began to dissert Rabelais. The agent's breath came in quick rasps, and he was helpless to stop all but the informant from Beijing from joining Harry in his rigid defence of the British Handler. 

Outnumbered and undoubtedly defeated, Rabelais clenched his fists and surged forwards, breaking apart the crowd and storming off towards the shuttle dock. " _Out of my way!_ " he hissed - at an unfortunately placed intern - as he rounded the corner and thundered down the hall.

His heavy footfalls faded to silence, and Rousseau clasped Harry's arm as he murmured, "I will make sure that he sees reason, Arthur."

Harry offered his hand and was warmly received, and as the ageing - yet sturdy - Frenchman swept after his colleague, Harry's mind conjured the one image that could bring him comfort, and yearned for Eggsy's return.

_I need you here, my Darling._

An ocean apart, and Eggsy found himself wishing for something very similar.

He pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples in a desperate attempt to ward off the ache he felt rising beneath the skin, and cracked one eye open to find Roxy still pacing and grumbling in their dimly lit suite.

She'd muttered something about a headache of her own as she'd closed the drapes and dimmed the wall scones, and he pointedly ignored the muffled _'Insufferable man - driving me to migraines!'_ that sounded from somewhere underneath the cardigan she was attempting to pull on over her head.

Her glasses kept getting caught in the neck.

Eggsy huffed and crossed the room, catching her flailing arms and patiently removing her glasses for her. Roxy's flushed face popped through the neck of the soft, green wool, and Eggsy was struck by how similar the garment was to one of Merlin's.

_He abruptly derailed that particular train of thought, and an uneasy thread of guilt threatened to tighten around his chest._

He took her suit jacket from her and placed it over the back of the chair next to his. "Remind me wha' was so bad 'bout earlier?"

Roxy scoffed as she tugged on the cuffs of her cardigan. "What was so bad about it? Eggsy I hardly think-"

He raised a hand to cut her off and tried his best to adopt a placating tone. "Sure, was a little embarassin' - but we all knew it was gonna happen eventually, didn' we?"

The woman across the room didn’t appear to be listening to him. "After everything he put me through with-"

Eggsy sighed as he threw an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. "Your posh bird, yeah, but listen - Percy's a big bloke, he can take care of 'imself."

It was, apparently, entirely the _wrong_ thing to say.

She stiffened under his touch and drew herself back, turning to face him with the sourest expression he’d ever seen her wear. "And I can't?"

"I didn't mean-"

"Well what did you mean, Galahad?" she seethed.

"Aw fuck, Rox - 'nuff wi' the Galahad shit, alright? We've had this conversation 'bout twenty fuckin' times now.” He dragged a hand roughly through his hair and held his arms out to her, bringing her closer to the sofa by the window and pulling her down next to him. “He worries about you, Rox, that's kind of his thing. An' yeah, that don' mean that you don' 'ave to worry about 'im, but _seriously_ babes - he knows how 'andle Washington." 

A devilish gleam rose in his eyes as he bent his head to her ear and whispered, "Literally," pulling back with a wink and treating her to his signature brow wiggle.

Roxy's face seemed to shrivel in on itself as she reared back and thumped him on the arm. “You are revolting, Gary Unwin.”

Eggsy laughed off the insult and pulled her closer again. “Aren’t you happy for ‘im?” He felt her shrug beneath him as she shook her head. 

“I am, of course I am. I just don’t see- forget it. I’ll talk to him.”

Eggsy breathed a sigh of relief and grinned to himself.

_Fucking finally._

“Been waiting for that, have you?”

_Apparently not to himself then._

His smile became sheepish as he lowered his eyes to hers, glad to see her returning it with a teasing smirk of her own. Roxy nudged her head against his shoulder and lifted herself from his arms, plodding across the room in bare feet to fish through the pockets of her suit jacket.

She returned to the sofa a moment later, with her phone in hand and a wicked gleam in her eye. 

“Want to watch his reaction again?” she leered.

Eggsy nodded with a toothy grin and shuffled to the side to give her more space. She dropped into the seat with a _‘hoof’_ and motioned for him to come closer. 

The two young agents were consumed by a bout of raucous laughter as they peered at the screen, reliving the moment they’d stumbled upon the stoic Percival and the venerable Washington in an incredibly _compromising_ position.

Washington had, naturally, favoured them with an upside-down wink as Percival leapt up from the desk with a stammered apology and all but fled from the room, his face a most fetching shade of crimson. 

The woman before them had heaved an exasperated sigh and languidly swivelled herself upright until she was perched on the edge of her desk, her legs delicately crossed at the knees. Even with her hair falling from its tie to frame her lipstick smeared cheeks and her shirt buttons undone to reveal her garishly red underwear, she was still smirking unashamedly at the two agents standing in her doorway. 

Raising one perfectly manicured hand, she brushed the hair from her eyes and gracefully dropped to the floor, sighing dramatically and gesturing to the hallway with a flourish. “Couldn’t you two have waited? I’d only just gotten him to relax.”

The recording ended and Roxy dropped the phone on the cushion beside her, and vowed to be eternally grateful to Merlin for showing her how to access the feed from her glasses on a mobile device.

“Brilliant,” rasped Eggsy as he wiped the tears from his eyes. Beside him, Roxy was in a similar state, clutching her aching belly with one hand and her flushed cheeks with the other. “I knew it,” she wheezed. “Never trust a woman that matches her underwear, lipstick and shoes – they’ve always got plans.”

Eggsy’s giggle cut off with a choked cough as he grabbed her leg and pointed towards the door. 

She followed his line of sight and sobered instantly.

Percival – flushed and stiff – stood half in the doorway, half poised to flee into the hallway and forget he’d ever come to apologise.

Roxy frowned as he nodded in her direction and disappeared round the door without a word.

_Well it’s about bloody time._

She patted Eggsy’s knee and handed him her phone, bouncing off after her mentor with every intention of hitting the stupid man square in the jaw and then throwing her arms around him and refusing to let go until he got it through his thick skull.

_She was sorry too._

Eggsy stared after the wave of chestnut hair that vanished behind the door, and decided that since Roxy was going to be occupied for a while, he might as well set his mind to the task at hand.

Harry hadn’t explicitly told him to interrogate Eagle, and neither had Percival, but he knew in the back of his mind that there was no escaping the inevitable. 

_And Eagle might just be willin’ to talk to me._

With that cheery thought, he left the room in search of his target, absentmindedly pocketing Roxy’s phone and wondering just how high Harry’s eyebrows would climb into his hairline if he knew that Eggsy was going to interrogate a suspected terrorist with no backup or handler – Nightingale having called him that morning to tell him that she wouldn’t be available for the rest of the afternoon, and to not do anything monumentally stupid until she got back.

_He supposed this qualified, but what was she going to do? And what was so important that she couldn’t watch him?_

Nightingale was, at that moment, lingering behind the other handlers crowded at the end of a long, white hallway – fretting simultaneously about the agent she’d abandoned in America, the sight of his partner and her King standing so close without knowing she’d abandoned him in America, and the bald man beyond the sealed door at the end of said long, white hallway.

Harry had dismissed the rest of the crowd – most of them drifting off to inform their own agents of Merlin’s innocence – but was having difficulty getting the Handlers to follow their example.

_Bless them._

He turned with an exasperated sigh to Gawaine, silently pleading for his aid. The bear-like man’s eyes crinkled with a kind smile as he shook his head.

“I’m terribly sorry, Sir, but they won’t be moved.” He glanced to the pack of eager Handlers that had gathered around Harry. “They’ve been here since he was arrested and they’re not going anywhere.”

Harry resigned himself to a curious audience as he led Gawaine away from the door and to a more private section of the hall.

_As private as it could be, given the circumstances._

Gawaine drew his thick brows together as Harry came to a stop. “Sir?”

“I’m sorry, Gawaine, I know you wanted me to find you earlier but Piedmont brought me straight down.”

The larger man’s voice softened as he turned his shoulder to block Harry from the view of the more blatantly curious Handlers. “It’s perfectly alright, Sir, I understand.”

Harry was grateful for Gawaine’s easy presence and soothing voice.

_A welcome relief after the day I’ve had._

He hesitated – casting his mind back to Merlin’s shocking appearance – and glanced around the lines of Gawaine’s suit to the crowd behind him, before reaching up with one hand and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

_He was almost too afraid of the answer to voice his query._

“Merlin’s nose, Gawaine, and his cheek – what happened to him?”

The other man nodded sagely and leaned towards Harry’s face.

_No sense in starting them off again._

“He was fighting, Arthur.”

Harry frowned and stared incredulously at the taller man. 

_Well of course he bloody was._

“Yes, I can see that. Who was he fighting?”

Gawaine shifted his considerable weight from one foot to the other and considered the agent before him. A peculiar thought struck him, and he wondered if it was simply a trick of the light that made his King’s hair look greyer than it had that morning.

“Everyone, Sir.”

Harry blinked owlishly. “I beg your pardon?”

Gawaine rolled his shoulders back, puffing out his barrelled chest, and lifted his chin proudly. “Allegations were made that your… _affection_ for Merlin would make you unfit to carry out an unbiased interrogation. Rabelais latched onto the idea almost immediately.”

Harry, startled that his initial assumptions were incorrect, arched his brows and peered over Gawaine’s shoulder once more. “You mean they didn’t-“

The other man reared back, affronted, and scoffed. “Certainly not, Sir. I escorted Merlin to the White Room himself, and I can vouch for every single one of them. I was serious when I told you they’d been there since he was arrested.” He shook his head with a soft smile. “No, Sir, it was Rabelais. He said he wanted to speak to Merlin, and Rousseau gave his permission. Without you here I couldn’t very well refuse him, but I left the door open. Within minutes they were shouting at each other.”

_Yes, that sounds about right._

Harry caught the quirk in his lips before it could become a grin and motioned for the other man to continue.

“Then one of the Asian liaisons joined in, outright claimed he didn’t trust you.” His eyes grew hard as his voice dropped to a low murmur. “He insinuated that you may be…in league with the Guardians.”

Harry’s appalled expression was replaced by a sagely nod as his eyes darted to the door behind Gawaine.

“And that’s when Merlin threw the first punch?” he ventured.

Gawaine smirked and drew himself to his height. “No, Sir,” he began, pride lacing his gruff voice, “that’s when Merlin broke his arm.”

_Shit._

Gawaine mistook Harry’s shocked silence for impress and continued. “By the time Bors and I had managed to pull them apart, Merlin’s shoulder was dislocated and the Asian was unconscious. The other one dragged him off somewhere – Rabelais had abandoned the brawl almost as soon as Merlin had struck his leg.”

Harry blinked, recalling that Rabelais had indeed been walking somewhat stiffly. “He was favouring his left leg, wasn’t he?” he muttered, before his eyes widened and his head snapped back up to meet Gawaine’s smug expression. “Merlin’s shoulder was fine when I spoke to him,” he observed, suspicion lacing his quiet voice.

Gawain’s lips curled into a grimace. “He popped it back in himself,” he admitted heavily.

_Of course he bloody did._

“Well the bloke’s always been kinna batshit, so is anyone _really_ surprised?”

The thick, Belfast brogue came from over Gawaine’s shoulder, and Harry shuffled to the side to find that the crowd had been creeping closer unnoticed. Their earnest faces pleaded with Harry to absolve their worry, and in the back he caught sight of Nightingale’s stricken expression.

“Thank you, Swallow,” Gawaine reprimanded, turning to face the dejected crowd. He opened his mouth to shoo them, but was stopped short by Harry’s hand on his arm.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, stepping forwards and drawing the eyes of everyone in the hallway. The senior Knights stood to the right of the door, exchanging terse glances with each other. Agrivaine’s pointed glare was fixed on the closed door, and only shifted away as Harry cleared his throat.

“While I’m sure our friend greatly appreciates your support, I feel it would be best if you give him some space when I release him.”

The effect was instantaneous. Relief swept through the crowd in a wave. Several Handlers turned to collapse on their neighbours, and through the sudden throng of chatter Harry was certain he heard someone sobbing their gratitude. 

He strode forwards and shooed those closest to the door out of the way, pausing before pressing his thumb against the digital pad with a lighter heart. A weight had been lifted from his weary shoulders, and the dark blanket of dread that had been smothering him for the last forty-eight hours was tugged away, leaving his mind a little clearer, and his breathing a little easier. He was eager to share the news with his treasured friend.

Harry slipped through the crack in the door, conscious that Merlin may need some time to compose himself before facing his audience, and was surprised to find the man staring earnestly back at him. His eyes were clear and though his cheeks were pale, not a trace remained of the tears he had shed only minutes prior. 

With a proud grin splitting across his face, Harry pulled the door open wide and swept his arm out to guide Merlin from the room. On unsteady legs, his friend cautiously approached the doorway and – steadying himself with a deep inhale – stepped into the corridor.

Only to be met with an armful of Kingfisher, as the minuscule woman threw herself at him and clung tightly to the breast of his cardigan.

He was suddenly assaulted with a barrage of hands and arms and tears, each and every one of his Handlers fighting to express their joy at his release.

A tight knot formed in his throat, and his eyes began to sting as he regarded them each in turn, overcome with pride and not an inconsiderable measure of awe at the loyalty they had shown.

_They didn’t doubt me._

However, it was to his great surprise that he discovered that the loyalty and faith wasn’t exclusively expressed by his Handlers.

In his peripheral vision he was given a scant few seconds warning before he was enveloped in an embrace so fierce, he felt the breath leave his body in a wheeze. He was dropped back to his feet and pushed back from a sturdy chest to find Gawaine beaming down at him, the larger man struggling to keep the tell-tale sheen in his eyes from spilling over. 

The knot in his throat threatened to choke him.

The next to pull him into their arms was Bors, and he was left to try and soothe the man that offered broken apologies between hitched breaths. He grasped his shoulders tightly as he withdrew, only to come face to face with Agravaine.

The sour man’s expression was as blank as it always was, but for a moment – as he extended his hands and clasped Merlin’s in both – the Handler felt he glimpsed something human in the black eyes before the agent withdrew back into himself.

Agrivaine’s stoic gesture of support would have proven to be the straw that broke the camel’s back – so to speak – and sent him to his knees, had Harry – _wonderful, dependable Harry_ – not taken hold of his elbow and pressed himself against Merlin’s side to keep him upright.

“Right…Eagle?”

Harry shook his head with a frustrated sigh - _Of course the first thing he’d concern himself with is our safety._

The crowd before them began to murmur, faces pinching and throwing helpless looks to those around, until a steady voice piped up from the very back.

“Galahad is interrogating him as we speak!” 

David’s white head appeared over Robin’s shoulders, and the older man stepped through the crowd, clutching Merlin’s clipboard to his chest. 

Harry felt his blood run cold at the thought of Eggsy facing the American mole alone, and as he turned to Merlin he found the same fear reflected in Handler’s wide eyes. Merlin pulled away from his side and grabbed Harry’s elbow, tugging him forwards.

“Harry.”

The urgent plea snapped him from his stupor, and Harry began barking orders to the assembled Handers, sending them scattering left and right as he and Merlin hurtled through the corridor and towards the magician’s computer. 

The bald man dropped into his sat, grabbing the edges of the desk to stop himself careening off the wheeled chair and began frantically searching for a link to Eggsy’s feed. 

“I hope he’s wearing his glasses,” muttered Harry under his breath as his nails dug into the padded back of Merlin’s chair. His heart racing and his palms sweating, he could only wait for the other man to locate Eggsy.

“He bloody well better be,” came Merlin’s hoarse reply.

_I’ll have his hide if he is’nae._

Sweat beaded his bow and pooled on the tip of his long nose as he scanned every record of transmission that David had been logging. After a minute of silence – permeated by Harry’s harsh breathing and the sound of his own blood roaring behind his ears – Merlin found the infinitesimal line of green text he was looking for.

“Bingo.”

Bringing up the feed, he felt an icy hand constricting his chest. Eggsy was there, staring straight ahead at a silhouette in front of a computer screen.

_Be careful lad,_

he prayed.

Eggsy had been shuffling behind Eagle for the last half hour, handing him paper when he asked for it and waiting for Roxy to answer his messages. She hadn’t seen any of the last four he’d sent, and the other had received no reply.

_Probably still talking to Perc._

He was beginning to think that perhaps confronting a terrorist singlehandedly was quite possibly the stupidest idea he’d ever had, when he caught sight of a small green line blinking in the corner of his lenses.

_‘Be careful, Darling.’_

Eggsy couldn’t have felt more relieved to see those three words. His eyes fell closed as he sent a silent prayer of thanks to whomever might be listening, the knots in his stomach untangling themselves as he stood straighter and exhaled. Knowing that Harry was watching, that Harry would keep him safe, was more than enough to give him the courage to face Eagle.

He was pulled from his thoughts by another request. “Pass me the red one, would you Eggs?”

Eggsy flinched at the nickname he had once welcomed. “Sure,” he muttered, unaware of the older man’s curious glance in his direction at his tone. 

Eggsy retrieved the file from atop a stack of others, and as he was crossing the room he happened to glance at the first page. He stiffened as he read its contents. “Washington?” he whispered, his brows drawing together.

The burning sensation in his chest returned as the knots wound themselves tighter around his insides.

“What?” Eagle’s sharp reply had him glancing fearfully up at the older man, and for several minutes the words couldn’t quite make it past his heavy tongue.

“Why do you need this, Eagle?”

“Its- well files need updated, Eggs, gotta keep track of personnel.”

Eggsy’s eyes narrowed dangerously at his shaky answer. “Updating records is one thing, _mate_ , but why would a personnel file need transcripts of every conversation Washington’s had with Arthur for the last three months?”

Eagle huffed, holding his hands out to the younger man. “Eggsy-”

As he watched Eagle struggle to justify himself, the sickening feeling in Eggsy’s stomach was replaced by a familiar white-hot rage. He threw the file across the room - abandoning any hope he had of preforming a subtle interrogation – and stalked towards the other man.

_He was angry, and fuck if he wasn’t going to use it._

Beneath the stinging rage that thundered through his ears, a quiet voice that sounded almost exactly like Harry’s gave a frustrated groan and pleaded with him to just _‘calm down.’_

_None too surprisingly, he elected to ignore it._

“An’ while we’re at it – how _the fuck_ did you get a hold of these? Those transmissions are encrypted.”

There are some people for whom personalities are masks that can be as easily changed as a pair of shoes. These people are of course very dangerous, and must be treated with utmost caution and suspicion. These people play a deadly game, for which the stakes are ineffable, but they are nothing if not clever actors, and their craft is their lifeline. With the wave of a hand they can surrender everything they are and adopt an entirely different persona, exchanging one facial expression for another without a trace of an emotional trigger.

Eagle was, apparently, one of these very dangerous people.

All at once, the perpetual crinkles in the corner of his eyelids smoothed into hard lines, his mouth became taught and thin, and the warmth Eggsy had come to expect in his deep, brown eyes faded into a cold, blank stare. Within a fraction of a second the man before him resembled nothing of the man he’d come to know, and Eggsy was struck with a sickening feeling that he was about to meet the real Eagle.

_‘Heh.’_

The dark chuckle sent a thrill of something very cold racing along his spine, and Eggsy instinctively braced himself for an impact – but of what, he did not now.

Eagle – ever so precisely – rose from his chair and prowled across the length of one wall. “I knew from the start you’d be the one to watch. You’re a very observant young man, Gary – I see great potential in you.”

Eggsy flinched at hearing Harry's honest words of comfort repeated by the foul man before him. 

_Don’t you fucking dare._

Without taking his eyes off the younger man, Eagle reached behind himself and pressed his hand to something in the wall. A low hum, and a heavy _‘clang’_ that sounded throughout the room, and Eggsy knew he’d just been locked in. 

“I’m sure Arthur’s had you keeping an eye on me, hmm? Making sure I’m… _above board_ ,” the older man began to purr as he considered Eggsy’s tense stance. He surged forwards suddenly.

Eggsy darted to the side and raised his fists, only to drop them back to his sides at the sound of eagle’s hollow laughter. “Good, _good_ ,” he leered.

The American tilted his head to the side, the dim lights overhead catching the whites of his eyes and the feral gleam of his smile, and Eggsy was suddenly, _painfully_ aware of the feeling that he was trapped in the cage with a hungry carnivore. “You’re a smart man, Eggsy, you can see what’s happening out there. What’s happening to all those innocent people - people who lost everything because of V-Day. They’re afraid. They’re confused and they need guidance.”

The speech was carefully rehearsed, and Eggsy fought the urge to roll his eyes at the obvious pride in Eagle’s voice.

“And I suppose you’re the one to give it to ‘em?”

Eagle’s lips quirked into a cruel smile as he slowly shook his head back and forth. 

_Eggsy was sure that through the silence that stretched between them, he could hear the older man’s neck creaking._

“Oh, not just me Eggs, _The Guardians_.”

He paused for effect, and seemed genuinely affronted at Eggsy’s lack of response. He shook his head and – undeterred – carried on. “We’re going to show them what’s really going on - who’s responsible for all those mysterious disappearances, who miraculously foiled Valentine’s plans.” 

Again he hesitated, tracking Eggsy’s movements in response to his own from the corner of his eye, and tried a different approach. “Eggsy, we’re going to tell them the truth – about everything.” 

Again, all he received from the younger man was a blank stare and silence. He turned his body to face the British agent and rolled his shoulders forwards, his core curling in on itself until he was bracing his weight on the tips of his toes. The movement had the unnerving effect of making him look like he was dropping into a menacing crouch, even though he was still standing upright. 

He grinned, and twitched his head to peer at Eggsy from an angle. “About Harry Hart,” he spat.

Eggsy, through Harry’s murmured coaching, had taken a moment to calm his breathing while Eagle had been rambling, and although he visibly stiffened and clenched his fists, he refused to rise to the bait. “Who’s paying you for this?”

Eagle appeared to take great offense at the accusation. “ _Paying us?_ No one’s paying us Eggs, we’re doing the right thing!” he insisted.

His emphatic, wide-eyed glee gave Eggsy considerable cause for worry.

_I think he’s serious._

“And you could be too.”

Eggsy felt a muscle in his jaw begin to twitch. “Say tha’ again?”

“Eggsy,” Eagle pleaded, “we could use a clever man like you.”

Eggsy sighed and rocked back on his heels, retreating several steps and glancing to the door. For a brief moment he considered shooting through the lock, but promptly dismissed the idea.

_Fuckin’ yanks’re mental - even the normal ones are armed to the teeth, never mind the secret bloody agents._

He decided to try again. “Who’s payin’ you?” 

Eagle threw his arms aloft in frustration. “This isn’t about money, Eggsy, this is about _Justice!_ ” he hissed.

Eggsy blinked. “Bullshit.”

The older man visibly deflated and dropped his shoulders, shocking his hands into the pockets of his slacks and throwing a casual shrug in Eggsy’s direction. “Alright, so some money’s changing hands - but I could make sure you get a _very_ generous cut.”

Eggsy despaired as he was once again thrown into a familiar situation, except this time the man in front of him wasn’t a stiff, aristocratic prick.

_Still fuckin’ mental though._

"What is it about me that attracts power hungry _psychos_ with fuck all understandin’ of what loyalty means?" 

Eagle blinked, slowly, and withdrew his clenched fists from his pockets. “I’ll take that as a no?”

“Fuck off, mate,” the younger man scoffed. 

The American shrugged again and, seemingly quite put out by Eggsy’s refusal – began to tut with a grim smile. “Very well, then I’m afraid-”

Eggsy began to reach into the breast of his suit jacket as he spoke. “Oh, no no, _no_ mate. _I’m_ afraid _I’m_ gonna ‘ave to take you to Washington.”

“And why the Hell would I let you do that?”

From their vantage point – practically doubled over in front of the computer, Harry’s hands pressing painfully against Merlin’s shoulders – the two older agents caught sight of the gun a second before Eggsy did. 

A scream tore its way through Harry’s chest and left his throat in a broken howl as Merlin threw himself towards the emergency radio and called for the other Knights. He had just reached for the cold, plastic microphone when – through the shrill whining in his ears – he heard a sound that stopped him in his tracks, and shook him to his core.

The deceptively soft, but unmistakable dart-like sound of a bullet, silenced by a muffler.

Harry’s next breath caught in his throat and escaped as a choking cry, and Eggsy fell – slumping forwards and colliding with the hard, wooden floor. 

Through the feed from Eggsy’s glasses they saw Eagle’s measured steps approaching from the top and a pool of dark red seeping into the bottom of the frame.

_All was quiet in a basement in England, as a young man gagged in a basement in D.C._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this was late, again I'm using the AO3 text uploader and it's not what I'm used to. Chapter 22 will be along shortly, try not to shoot the trashbag author until then?


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of all the unique pigments in The Creator's infinite palette, Eggsy's eyes were the most perfect colour he'd ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to Sam Tsui's A Capella cover of Bad Blood while writing the first scene, and felt slightly guilty for laughing. Still, I'd recommend listening to it, for the craic.

"I must say - I'm surprised at you, Galahad, I really thought you'd see that coming." 

His voice was so light, that one would struggle to believe that the person he was addressing was slumped against a table, struggling to push himself upright with one hand and clutching the other to his stomach in a desperate attempt to keep his insides from spilling onto the floor. 

Heedless of his struggles, the older man eyed him with a grunt of disdain at the mess staining his floorboards, and continued in the same light-hearted, matter-of-fact manner as before. "Betrayal is - after all - a terribly over-played trope in our line of work." 

"Would you ever just _shut the fuck up_?" Eggsy hissed as he doubled his efforts to remain upright. 

The other man raised his brows and sighed loftily. “Careful, boy – you should be more courteous to the man holding your life in his hands.” 

Eggsy grinned and nodded his head towards the hole in his stomach. “Bit late for that, _mate_.” 

Eagle’s brows drew together in confusion, before his eyes widened, then narrowed in a callous smirk. “Oh, that? No, Eggsy, that you’ll survive – providing that you get immediate medical attention, which _heh_ , if you’ll forgive me, doesn’t seem very likely given the lockdown.” 

Eggsy stiffened. _Lockdown_? 

The other man steamrolled ahead, completely oblivious – or entirely indifferent – to the other occupant of the room. “But I doubt very much even your ability to live through a bullet to the brain.” 

_It’s not like it hasn’t been done before, Eggsy thought with a wry grin,_ before absently considering the fact that a trained killer – and obvious lunatic - probably had much better aim than a man with supposedly no stomach for violence. 

_Well that’s me fucked then._

“Yes, I suppose it is,” the darker man sneered. 

Eggsy blinked. _I really gotta stop sayin’ shit out loud._

“I’m going to let you carry on talking to yourself,” Eagle frowned, with a patronising tap to Eggsy’s hunched shoulder, “while I finish up with these files, alright?” 

As the other man strolled back to his computer – once again frowning at the blood staining his nice clean floor – Eggsy summoned his dwindling strength and called out to him. “An’ jus’ how you gonna explain a dead body, huh?” 

“Oh, - well you tried to shoot me, _obviously_ ,” he shot Eggsy a queer look over his shoulder as he shook his head, seemingly baffled by the question.

Without giving the younger man time to respond, he smiled to himself, practically wringing his hands with glee as he delighted in the opportunity to reveal his plan. 

_Why the fuck they always gotta do that?_

“You see, Arthur and Washington aren’t exactly friends, and she’s just itching for a chance to pin all this on the British. Imagine that – _hmm_ \- the one who orders the investigation is actually in charge, and has had three people wrongfully convicted and... _disposed_ of,” his lips drew into a sneer as he alternated between checking Eggsy was still conscious enough to listen to him, and tapping away at his keyboard. 

The gears in Eggsy’s head were turning a mile a minute, and he was still having difficulty trying to piece together Eagle’s plan. 

_Washington adores Harry – why’d she wanna pin anythin’ on ‘im._

He was drawn back to the room by the sound of the older man murmuring to himself. “You know what? I’ve always hated the way we put that – _disposed of_ – I mean, everyone _knows_ it’s murder, no sense in sugar-coating it. Right Eggs?” His voice rose as he directed the question to the younger man behind him. 

Eagle’s words had finally made it through his cloudy mind, and Eggsy was shocked into silence by the thought that Harry might be blamed for everything, before remembering something that sent another wave of pain through him. 

_I’m so sorry you have to see this, Harry._

“They can hear you - you know tha’ right?” 

Eagle scoffed. “Please - Merlin’s been arrested and Arthur’s interrogating him. Do you _really_ think there’s an agent left to man the Magician’s station?” 

_He doesn’t know they’re listening._

Eggsy almost sobbed with relief, wincing as the shudder that racked his weakening frame jolted his wound and sent a fresh stream of blood spilling past the fingers he’d managed to wedge into the bullet hole. 

While the younger man was busy thanking the Gods that even if this was the end for him, at least Harry would be safe, Eagle had finished typing and was meticulously destroying every trace of his latest transmission, completely unaware – Eggsy thought with a grin - that his efforts were futile. 

_Got that confession after all._ The thought made him smile, drawing Eagle’s attention.

“What’re you smiling at?” 

Eggsy’s cheeks dimpled as he flashed his teeth. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot, mate.” 

“Well now I really am going to shoot you,” the older man huffed. 

Eggsy tried to roll his eyes, but found that the action sent a sharp stab of pain through his head. He chased the little dots swimming around the edge of his vision, and blinked to clear the fog that was fighting to engulf his dwindling clarity. “Eagle?” he rasped. 

The man in front of the console threw a noncommittal grunt in his direction. 

“What’d you-” his words caught in his throat as another shudder coursed through him. “What you mean by lockdown?” 

“I triggered a lockdown – no one gets in or out of the rooms they were in until I isolate the security breach. Couldn’t very well risk any interruptions, now could I?” 

_They’ll never find me in time._

With that sobering thought, Eggsy decided to surrender to the darkness picking apart his resolve, only to have his reprieve interrupted by Eagle’s heavy boot coming crashing down on top of his shin. He cried out as a sickening crunch echoed throughout the room, and through the haze of pain that followed, white bursts of light joined the black spots in their hypnotic dance across his eyes. 

He raised his shaky gaze to the older man, sucking in a breath at finding the muffler pointed to the space between his eyes, and tried very hard not to cry at the thought of never seeing Harry again. 

A second, muffled shot tore through the room. 

It was only after a few seconds that Eggsy realised he was still breathing. 

He cracked open one eye, blinking soundly against the blinding pain radiating from his gut as he strained to find Eagle in the dim light. Only, it wasn’t quite so dim anymore. 

_“Eggsy!”_

To his left, Roxy stood in the doorway – trusty piston still pointed at the space Eagle’s head had stood only moments before – staring at something just in front of him. He followed her gaze and found the American collapsed in a rapidly growing pool of his own blood, a grisly smile still twisting his face. 

Roxy’s bullet had entered just above his right eye. 

He turned his darkening gaze to find his friend again – noting the door’s singed metal lock – and realised that Merlin had been holding out on him on the gadget front. 

_Gotta bring that up when I get home, ‘cept if it’s lipstick, don’ want lipstick._

He tried to smile past the traitorous little voice in his head that whispered, _‘if - if I get home,’_ as Roxy threw herself across the room – sidestepping the dead body – and falling to her knees at his side. 

He ignored her frantic murmuring as he coughed, and grinned. “Think this is it for me, Rox.” 

She smiled through her tears as she tried to move his hand, tutting at his resistance, and shook her head. “I called Washington, she’ll be here soon. Why didn't you call me, you _bloody idiot?_ ” 

Eggsy shook his head. Every breath was agony, he could feel the wet warmth spreading across his shirt and knew that even though Eagle's shot wasn't meant to kill him, he'd been left on that floor for far too long. 

“Not gonna make it.” 

No sooner had he wheezed the words, did another figure burst through the open doorway and stagger into the room. 

For once- in all the time Eggsy’d known her - Washington looked terribly flustered. Her hair had fallen completely out of its topknot, and her wide eyed blinked owlishly at him from her flushed face. Her skin was damp with sweat, and as her found the wound, it drained to a sickly pallor. 

She swallowed around her suddenly dry throat, and took a shaky step towards them, coming up short as she recognised Eagle’s body. She shuffled closer, shaking her head in disbelief, and the pointed toe of her stilettos slipped in the puddle of red spreading from the older agent. 

She would have come crashing down in the middle of the pool, had a pair of strong hands not reached under her arms and grasped her biceps. Percival turned her with a grim expression and started towards Eggsy, leaving the startled Washington to stare between the gaping hole in Eagle’s head, and the gun still clasped in Roxy’s hand. 

“Gotta hand it to your girl,” she breathed. “She gets shit done.” 

Percival ignored her in favour of checking the increasingly delirious Eggsy. 

“Hey Perc,” he slurred, and the older agent balefully decided to let him away with his slip. He prodded around the wound, relieved to find that the younger agent’s fingers had stemmed the worst of the bleeding. 

“You’ll live,” he concluded, softening his curt tone with a rare smile. 

“S’what Eagle said,” Eggsy nodded, his head dropping limply to his chest and bobbing back up as he struggled to focus on the people in front of him. 

He could hear a shrill whining noise that threatened to drown Washington’s commands, Percival’s fretting, and Roxy’s soft, soothing voice. 

_At least he could still feel her cool hands on his clammy skin._

He felt someone try to prop him upright, and through the fog that had blurred his vision he saw a stretcher approaching. He urgently began to grasp at the blur he figured was Roxy. 

“Turn glasses round.” 

She frowned down at him, hushing the medics that tried to push her out of the way. “What did you say, Eggsy?” 

A frustrated whine tore from his throat as he tried to lift his heavy hands – _had they always weighed that much_ – up to point at the skewed frames dangling precariously on the tip of his nose. “Glasses, turn ‘em.” 

Fortunately, Roxy figured out what he wanted without further prompting, and she plucked the frames from his face, turning the lenses to face him. 

He grinned, shuddering through another cough, and batted away the hands that tried to lift him. 

_Gotta ‘pologise to Harry._

“I’m ‘kay love, I’ll be home fer Christmas.” His lopsided grin faded as someone had the forethought to stab him in the neck with a needle, and as he was dragged under the warm blanket of sedative, his last coherent thought was a hope that Harry had heard his joke. 

The three agents stood back as Eggsy was carefully moved onto the stretcher and hoisted into the air. 

“Who was he talking to?” muttered Washington, as she plucked the glasses from Roxy’s hands and began turning them over in her own. 

“Must be…” Roxy’s eyes widened, and she moved to stand in front of the frames, staring into the lenses with a gentle smile and an encouraging nod. 

“Don’t worry, Sir, we have him,” she assured softly. 

She snapped the frames shut and tucked one leg into Eggsy's front pocket, allowing the feed to continue running. As she withdrew, her fingers brushed something cold, and her stomach clenched with guilt as she pulled out her phone and frantically checked her messages.

_He was trying to contact me._

Through the scope of the lenses, Harry and Merlin – and the dozen agents and handlers that had barged their way into the room at the sound of Harry’s pained cries - watched as Eggsy was carried to the American infirmary. 

“Harry?” Merlin’s heavy hand clasped his forearm and gave him a little shake, but Harry’s eyes were glued to the empty monitor, and his mind was still circling the sound of a muffled gunshot, and Eggsy’s broken wheeze. 

_Now you know what he felt,_ a little part of him hissed, _watching you outside that church._

The memory was shattered by Merlin’s tight grip, and the whisper in his ear. 

“There’s nothing more we can do for him, Harry.” 

“Merlin, I- I don’t-” Harry stammered, glancing helplessly at the agents gathered behind them. Merlin turned his imploring gaze to Kay, and the younger woman – _wonderful, clever girl_ \- snapped to attention, ushering the senior agents from the room. Merlin nodded his thanks as she closed the door on their frantic muttering, and turned to his handlers. 

Nightingale had stepped forwards to grasp Harry’s shoulders during Eggsy’s transmission, and was currently trying to tear the older man’s attention from the blank screen. 

“Sir, I-” her explanation caught in her throat at the sight of Harry’s tearful eyes and torn expression. She threw her shoulders back, and with her eyes directed to a spot above Harry’s head, she began her apology. 

“I’m sorry, Sir. I should have been watching him. I take full responsibility.” 

She stumbled over her final words, her hoarse voice catching as she closed her eyes and awaited Harry’s response with pursed lips and a furrowed brow. 

“And I’m sure you told him to stay put until you got back?” 

Her head snapped up to meet his knowing gaze. “Sir?” 

“It’s not your fault he isn’t terribly good at following orders,” Harry whispered with a wry grin. “Galahad would have gone after Eagle regardless of whether or not anyone was watching him. It isn’t your fault, my dear.” 

Her shoulders dropped with relief as she reached out to take Harry's offered hand in hers, gripping the appendage tightly as she thanked him with utter sincerity. 

Harry dismissed her with a weary smile, and turned to the man tapping listlessly away at his keyboard. He opened his mouth to chastise his friend, only to bite back a smirk as Merlin did exactly the same to him. 

“Go home, Harry. You’ll be no use here. I’ll have Washington patched through to your tablet – Lord knows she’ll probably want to speak to you anyway.” 

“I- yes, thank you, Robert.” He hesitated before rising slowly from his chair, clapping Merlin's shoulder, and pulling back, only to stop as Merlin's hand came up to clasp his own. The other man squeezed - tracing the ridges of Harry's knuckles with the pad of his thumb - before releasing him, and Harry knew he needn't say another word. 

_He needs time to think._

He concealed a grin as he wound his arms around Merlin's neck and shoulders, encasing him and holding on until the other man's hands fell from the keyboard and reached up to return the embrace. Harry reluctantly withdrew from the warmth and smoothed down the front of his rumpled shirt - absently wondering where he'd left his jacket - casting a final, mournful glance at Merlin's back, and headed for the door - feeling heavier than he had crossing the length of the hallway and through the crowds gathered around the White Room. 

As he reached the door he braced himself against the handle and cleared his throat. 

“You know, not a one of ours doubted you – not even for one _second_.” 

The quiet reply settled a fear he'd felt churning in a far corner of his mind. 

“Aye, a’know.” 

Harry glided from the room, waving off commiseration and condolences - shrinking back from even Gawaine's friendly boon - and in a daze made his way back to his office. He swept the collection of papers into his briefcase, sure he was missing vital pages and yet struggling to find the strength to care. He only remembered to retrieve his tablet as he was nearing the door, and doubled back on himself to search for the leather case. 

As he pulled it from a pile of forms that came toppling down in his wake, his eyes caught the reflection of something on his desk, and he was helpless to stop the sob that choked from him at the sight of Eggsy's dimpled grin beaming at him from behind the glass frame the subject himself had placed there only weeks before. 

_'Just somethin' to brighten your dreary days,'_ he'd whispered with a flourish, and a loud smack to the meat of Harry's stubbled cheek.

Harry steadied himself with the heel of his palm on the edge of the desk, and fought back the tears that stung at his clenched eyelids. 

The next few days passed in a watery blur, with Harry staving back tears every time Michelle entered a room. Handing Sophie to him didn’t seem to make matters any better, and his guest was at her wit's end trying to find the source of the problem. Harry's heart clenched at the thought of having to tell her what had happened to her son, and he selfishly settles for keeping her in the dark under the pretext of protecting her. 

_He couldn't bare to see the ineffable pain the news would cause._

News - for him - came in the form of nightly conferences with Washington, and hourly updates from Roxy - in which the brilliant girl was careful to supply him with any information he asked for, and perpetual assurances that Eggsy's condition was stable. 

_The one thing he had to be grateful for, was Eagle's arrogance._

The American had wanted to gloat, as all amateur villains did, and had intended on keeping Eggsy alive long enough for him to bask in his supposed triumph. The first shot wasn't intended to be fatal, and Roxy had stopped him from firing the second. 

Merlin had forbade him from coming back to HQ - after physically chasing him the first morning - pulling some strings in his intricate web and buying Harry the time to delay his meeting with the other division leaders. In the ensuing solitude, Harry had developed a habit of sitting in the chair Eggsy favoured, clutching his phone and sending desperate glances towards the wall-clock, convinced he could just _will time_ to pass faster. 

He couldn't help but notice that the atmosphere in their once happy home had returned to something that greatly resembled the first week after their introduction. A palpable cloud of tension and sorrow surrounded Harry, soaking him through every time he looked at his beloved's mother and sister, and in a bid to prevent his mood dampening theirs, he'd begun to isolate himself from them. 

_Surrounded by his loved ones, and he was as lonely as he had been before._

Sophie was - naturally - rather displeased with the development. 

Harry had just settled her in bed one night, purely out of necessity, given that Michelle had gone to stay with a grieving friend - _and how he'd despaired when she'd explained the woman had just lost a son to a traffic collision_ \- when he heard his phone chirping. 

He'd only just accepted the call, when Merlin breathed the words that made his heart stutter. 

"He's back." 

_Please, God - let it be him._

He steeled himself for disappointment - sure that it would be someone dreadful instead of the name he craved to hear - as he croaked. "Who's back?" 

Merlin's relief was palpable as he sniffed - and Harry was struck with an inkling that the other man had been crying. "Eggsy," he whispered. He made a peculiar _'ah,ah!'_ noise in the back of his throat and cut off Harry's protesting tirade, his accent thickening as he struggled to simultaneously reprimand Harry and justify himself in one, long breath. "Harry - and don't panic, _I mean it_ \- I did'nae want to tell ye he was being transferred until he was actually here, because I knew ye'd be a right nightmare if ye could'nae see him straight away." 

The other man's silence unnerved him. 

"Harry? You with me?" 

At the other end of the line, Harry was struggling to keep himself from slumping against the wall. He glanced at Sophie's puzzled face, and reached for the comfort of her tight grip on his shoulders. Hoisting her up on one hip, he began throwing her overnight bag together, and calmed the fussing toddler with gentle kisses to her forehead and blotchy cheeks. 

"I am," Harry replied, after seeing the toddler settled with a cup of diluted juice. He hooked the bag in the cook of his arm and precariously made him way downstairs. 

Merlin huffed a sigh of relief - _don' do that to me, Harry_ \- and Harry faintly heard the frantic typing beneath the sound of the man's laboured breathing. "Percival and Lancelot arrived an hour ago, and he's safely tucked up in my hospital wing." 

_He probably ran all the way from there_ , Harry smiled - both to himself and at the squirming toddler he was trying to tuck into a coat. "Merlin," he grunted, as he dropped the bag in frustration and pressed the phone into his ear with his shoulder. He buttoned up the puffy little coat with both hands, and was abundantly relieved at Merlin cutting him off this time.

"There's a taxi waiting for you both at the end of the cul-de-sac." 

The next hour was the most nerve-wracking that Harry had ever endured. By the time the shuttle had reached HQ, his palms were bruised with crescent indents, his jaw ached from the incessant grinding of teeth, and Sophie was even more irritable at having been moved than she was in the taxi. Harry fervently wished she could understand the urgency of the situation, and in a rare fit of frustration he thrust her at Merlin the second he laid eyes on the man's shiny head, dropping her bag beside him as he charged off down the hallways towards the medical wing. 

Roxy was waiting for him by the door to one of the private rooms. She snapped to attention, a grim frown twisting her tear-stained face, and wasn't in the least bit offended by his breezing past her into Eggsy's room. 

The overwhelming - and funnily enough, _familiar_ \- stench of bleach assaulted his aching head and stung his dry eyes, and as the door swung shut behind him - blocking out the sound of Merlin's huffing and Sophie's caterwauling and Roxy's valiant but fruitless attempts to placate them both - Harry was struck with a sobering thought, as a pair of white teeth flashed in fluorescent lights that were far too bright for any _sleeping_ patient to bear. 

_Of all the unique pigments in The Creator's infinite palette, Eggsy's eyes were the most perfect colour he'd ever seen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me for another chapter, and I'm sorry it's not on time, but real life adult stuff has gotten in the way of things. But never fear, chapter 23 will be up soon, and you can head over to my blog to see updates!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Arthur!”_
> 
> _‘Harry?’_
> 
>  Harry lifted his eyes to the camera lens, and the shrill, angry ringing in his ears stopped, and suddenly he was telling them the truth.

“Alrigh’, ‘Arry?” 

The figure in the bed slowly cracked a grin, cheeks dimpling as one eye slipped fractionally closed. The bright lights above danced in a sea of blue that dampened at the older man’s answering smile, and as the blonde stretched his fingertips out to him, Harry’s heart began to beat again.

He released a shuddering breath as he approached Eggsy’s bed – the younger man straining to sit upright – and placed his hand between Eggsy’s waiting fingers. As their skin brushed, Harry felt his entire body jerk with the force of the sob that fell from his lips, and before he could stop himself, he had all but collapsed on Eggsy’s chest.

The younger man fought back his own tears as he buried a hand – the one that wasn’t currently trapped under the weight of Harry’s body - into the older man’s chestnut curls, dragging his blunt nails back and forth across the base of his skull. The movement had always calmed Harry – lulling him back to sleep if he was on the verge of waking when Eggsy crept from their bed – but now it only seemed to make him tremble in great quakes that wracked his frame as he clutched the front of Eggsy’s flimsy robe like a lifeline. 

Hands desperately, yet ever so gently – _even when overwhelmed and uncontrolled, Harry was still afraid of hurting him_ \- pressed against every inch of his body that Harry could reach, as though the older man were trying to reassure himself that the solid mass beneath the sheets was indeed his lover and not a figment of his exhausted mind. 

Eggsy pressed his lips into Harry’s hair and drew a shaky breath through his nose as the other man finally seemed to ground himself in the younger’s presence.

“S’alright, ‘Arry, s’alright,” Eggsy whispered, hushing the older man with a firm hand on his neck and a soft kiss to his temple. 

Harry’s croak came from somewhere underneath his left ear. “I’m sorry, I just-”

Eggsy’s grip tightened as he shook his head. “I know. I'm here.”

Harry’s face pulled back from Eggsy’s neck suddenly. “You’re here? Yes – _my God_ – you’re here.” He carefully pressed the pads of his thumbs against Eggsy’s cheekbones, raking his eyes across the younger man’s face, lingering on scrapes and bruises that hadn’t been there the last time he’d held him. “With me.”

“With you,” Eggsy nodded, as an upturned lip that was meant to be reassuring twisted his face with the effort of holding back the wetness stinging at his eyes, and morphed his mouth into a pained sort of grimace. 

“Safe,” Harry murmured as his eyes found Eggsy’s. He despaired at the expression he found there.

_Why is he crying – he’s not to be crying, not ever._

Eggsy’s watery smile crinkled the corners of his eyes as he laughed through the tears that had finally escaped him. “Safe,” he repeated into Harry’s lips, as he led the older man into a desperate kiss.

It was not a familiar sort of desperation, however – not the kind of desperation that surged through his veins as he scrambled for purchase against the wall with one hand while the other dragged fingernails along the meat of Harry’s back, and he begged for release with cries and tongue and teeth.

_Though his stomach did tingle at that particular memory._

Nor was it the kind of desperate feeling that left him frozen – inside and out - in the face of Dean’s snarling maw, as Eggsy sandwiched his mum between the wall and his own body, and willed the stiffness in his limbs to melt away so he could fight back. 

_That was altogether more painful._

But this was a different form of desperation entirely. It didn’t ignite a flame in his stomach, or drive a stabbing chill through his bones. This was a frantic need - an unselfish yearning to reassure Harry - that started somewhere in his chest until it grew and spilled from a mouth that murmured apologies into damp skin, and spread to fingertips that held on as tightly as they were being held. Eggsy was smiling into lips that melded perfectly against his own, and yet his heart clenched at the need for more – the need to give more, to offer more. 

It was sweet and it was painful, and he was crying more than not, but Harry’s breath was calming, and Harry’s eyes were drying, and Eggsy felt the older man’s huffed laughter cool his lips as he too beamed into their kiss.

Harry drew back first, cupping the curve of Eggsy’s jaw and sweeping his thumb across the roughness of days-old stubble. Eggsy leaned into the touch, his eyes slipping closed as Harry moved forwards and pressed a fleeting kiss to the tip of his freckled nose.

Eggsy giggled, his face softening into a wide grin. “That was a much nicer welcome than Roxy’s.”

Harry snorted as he lowered himself into a waiting chair, his spine twinging as it pressed against the hard back – as though it were pre-empting another night of sitting stiffly at his desk - and Harry realised that it had been days since he’d slept in his bed. 

He’d started on the sofa in the living room, but the leather squeaked when he turned and it stuck to the exposed skin of his back and stomach whenever his shirt rode up, and Harry grew tired of the sting of having to peel himself off it every morning. 

Curling up in his favourite chair had seemed a more pleasant alternative, but the only way he could fit involved an awkward contortion of arms and legs that left him sore come dawn.

The final attempt had been at his desk, slumped in the office chair he’d _creatively acquired_ from a Russian bureaucrat, and though it was arguably the least comfortable of the three, it gave him an excuse to stay awake.

_And an explanation for Michelle if she found him._

He’d explain his staying awake as putting in some extra hours, or sorting through some paperwork, and he prided himself on reigning in the worry and guilt that threatened to consume him.

He shifted in his chair, stretching out his spine and wincing as it cracked, and promised himself that he’d organise for a bed to be placed in with Eggsy that night.

The younger man watched his stretch with a careful eye, frowning at his wince and pursing his lips as he realised – _knowing his Harry_ – the older man hadn’t spent a single night in their bed since Eggsy’d been shot.

The lines in his forehead smoothed as he considered that – _knowing his Harry_ – the older man was under enough pressure without him dragging up his sleeping schedule. Eggsy relented, and decided to let Harry off the hook just this once.

_As long as he gets some proper fuckin’ sleep tonigh’._

Harry had repositioned himself several times in the minutes since he sat down, first leaning to the side, then back against the seat – in both cases, securely holding onto Eggsy’s hand – before he gave into the urge to lean forwards, not even bothering to try and convince himself that it wasn’t because he needed to be as close to Eggsy as physically possible. 

_Without climbing into bed with him, that is._

Eggsy smiled at his fussing, and patted his knuckles affectionately when he finally settled, forearms braced on his knees. The errant waves of hair at the crown of his head had broken free from the gel, and were falling forwards into his eyes. With his tear-stained skin flushed and his eyes still suspiciously damp, Eggsy thought Harry looked younger than he’d ever seen him. 

Harry’s voice was hoarse as he cleared his throat and smiled against the knuckles he raised to press against his lips, lowering Eggsy’s hand back to rest in his own lap. “What did she do?”

Distracted by the warmth in Harry’s face as he peered at him from underneath his fringe, Eggsy blinked. “Hmm?”

“Roxy - what did she do when you woke up?” The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched as he squeezed Eggsy’s fingers and tried not to let his eyes wander to the front of the young man’s robe.

_Where he’d felt the hard line of bandages moments before._

Eggsy sighed heavily and sank back into a small mountain of pillows, grateful that Merlin seemed to be determined to bury him in soft furnishings. “Fuck,” he moaned, dragging a hand across his pale face, “well – I got a right chewin’ out for takin’ Eagle on by myself, but I s’pose that was fair.”

Harry eyes traced the line of Eggsy’s throat as he swallowed – _needs water_ \- flickering back to the blonde’s as he continued.

“But I think she might’ve broken a couple of ribs when she hugged me - once she got done hissin’ at me.”

“She loves you very much,” Harry nodded, holding out a small plastic cup and guiding the straw to Eggsy’s lips. The relief in his eyes was palpable, and he thanked Harry with a grin as the cup was taken away. Instead of placing it back on the nightstand, Harry rested the base on his knee, poised to lift it again should Eggsy need it.

Slumped against soft pillows, with Harry’s warm hand in his – and the warmth of the man’s attention and concern focused entirely on him - an overwhelming contentment spread through Eggsy’s chest and pooled in his stomach, and he knew that if he wasn’t careful, he’d start tearing up again. 

_Rox’d never let me live it down._

Eggsy started, glancing around the room for his friend, and settling back again as he remembered her leaving. Harry followed his gaze and turned to frown at the man in the bed. “Where is she?”

Eggsy shook his head. “Well, we just got back this evenin’, so soon as she knew you were on your way she buggered off to go see her girl.”

Harry blinked. “Her girl?”

“Don’t play dumb, ‘Arry – she knows you an’ Merlin’ve been muckin’ up her chances, an’ Percy’s in on it an’ all,” Eggsy scolded as the crease between his brows deepened. “Though I can’t see why you’d get involved,” he muttered to the white peaks of his knees beneath the sheets.

“I care about her, very much in fact,” answered Harry, with an indignant sniff.

Eggsy sighed. “Okay, well she’s got her eyes set on that posh bird, the one Merlin had us try an’ seduce before you lot drugged us and tied us to a fuckin’ train track.”

A wicked gleam sparkled in Harry’s eyes as he leaned forwards and stroked his palm along Eggsy’s hairline before dipping in and pecking his forehead. He stayed close as he answered. “Well, you were never in any real danger. The train was one of ours, the tracks had been rigorously tested and - if I’m honest - you did look very pretty all tied up.”

He drew back with a smirk that twisted into a stifled grin at Eggsy’s startled expression. The younger man quickly recovered and swatted at Harry’s shoulder with his free hand. “ _Oi_ \- stop flirtin’ with the invalid.”

Harry dipped his head without breaking eye contact. “My scincerest apologies, _Darling_ ,” he whispered.

Eggsy’s eyes narrowed as he pushed back the pleasant tingle that raced through him – _dick_ – and continued. “But she’s an actress right?”

“She is.”

The younger man rolled his eyes at Harry’s tight-lipped smile and sighed. “What’s her real name then?”

Harry relented in the face of Eggsy’s pout. “Joanna. She’s one of Agravaine’s best.”

“Agravaine?” Eggsy frowned, recalling the dour Knight with the piercing eyes, and the last time he’d come face to face with the - frankly - terrifying man.

“Yes, he was an actor before he joined our ranks, and he was recruited for that very reason.”

“I’ve never seen his face before.”

Harry shook his head. “You wouldn’t have, he’s had all traces of his identity wiped for security reasons - too high profile to remain unnoticed. You’ll note that Agravaine rarely allows himself to be seen, and even then only at night. As far as the theatre community are concerned, he died a long time ago.”

Eggsy whistled. “That’s mental.”

Harry nodded. “The same thing happened to Merlin. The man he was died for security purposes, as well as a sign of his acknowledgement of the anonymity he would have to adopt in order to fulfil the role of the magician. Only Robert exists now.”

Eggsy squinted at Harry through narrowed eyes and frowned. “Robert’s not his real name is it?”

“No,” Harry snorted. 

_Heavens no._

Eggsy grinned. “You gonna tell me his real name?” he ventured with a wink.

Harry raised a brow and hummed to himself. “No. Robert is the name he chose for himself. After Robert Burns I believe.”

Eggsy grimaced, his nose crinkling as he shook his head in disbelief. “ _Christ_ , could the bloke be any more Scottish?”

“Not even if he tired,” grinned Harry fondly. “It’s part of his permanent alias - he had to give a name to the people in the village, and now they all know him as Robert. Robert McCullough.” He frowned as his eyes drifted out of focus, somewhere above and slightly to the left of Eggsy’s head. 

“The change, I believe, is what finally broke his marriage apart. His wife wasn’t keen on the idea of abandoning everything she knew - family included - and moving to London. Merlin kept her safe in Glasgow, monitoring her comings and goings just in case anyone ever linked her to him.” Harry paused and smiled softly at the memory. “His daughter, however, was more than happy to follow him. I don’t think Sarah even knows that that Merlin and Emily stayed so close to Glasgow in the end.”

Eggsy answered Harry’s smile and chewed his lip, wondering if he was overstepping some secret line, especially given that the man in question was absent. “Did Emily know? About Kingsman?”

Harry seemed unperturbed about the question, but gripped Eggsy’s fingers a little tight all the same. “Oh yes,” he began, with a sagely nod. “She learnt to find the bugs on her clothes, and always knew when Merlin was tracking her. She knew he wasn’t in regular law enforcement, despite what he protested.”

Eggsy considered his answer for a moment before pursing his lips. “Didn’t she worry, not knowing where he was for weeks at a time?”

Harry’s eyes turned back to Eggsy, and the older man favoured him with a sad sort of smile, his tone wistful and heavy with the kind of pain that lessens over time, and turns into something that brings that sad little smile to one’s face. “When she was younger,” he began, “she lived here, at the mansion. She was quite popular among the handlers, and she never asked any questions.” 

Harry’s voice dropped to a thoughtful murmur that Eggsy strained to hear above the chirping medical paraphernalia. “I think she knew she wasn’t supposed to.”

He cleared his throat and shifted a little straighter in his chair. “When she was old enough to look after herself, Merlin would leave her at the cottage with a date and a time. She was happy and she was safe, and as long as he was home in time for dinner, she never complained. She was an absolutely darling girl.”

Suddenly, the sad little smile wasn’t quite so sad anymore, and Eggsy sensed that his glimpse into the Handler’s past was at an end. He quickly sought to dispel any regret that Harry may have had for telling him something so private about the very private man. 

“Well,” he sniffed, “lay off Roxy and Joanna, yeah? She really likes her.”

Harry sighed, grateful for conversation’s return to more comfortable territory. “I know, I’m being silly, but – she really does mean the world to me, as much as you, Michelle, Sophie or Merlin, and I don’t want to see her hurting.”

“She knows, but _fuck_ , Harry - you gotta know that if you gave that lame-arse excuse to her face she’d clean ye of your feet,” Eggsy laughed, and for the first time that day, the pain in his stomach didn’t fight to dampen his mood.

Harry’s deep chortle echoed in the quiet room, as the older man’s mind conjured the image. “I’m all too aware of that yes, and I’ll try to bring it up with Merlin.”

“Good luck with-” Eggsy began to huff, only to be cut short by the loud ‘ _thump_ ’ of the door against the wall.

“Knock knock.” 

_Speak of the devil,_ grinned Eggsy privately.

The man in question, without so much as a warning rap or cough or greeting, breezed into the room and over to the machines monitoring Eggsy by the left of the bed.

Harry sent a sharp look towards the Magician’s back. “What’s the bloody point of that?” he barked.

Merlin turned to face them both and shrugged, without glancing up from the clipboard in his hand. “It’s my bloody hospital,” he snipped.

His sharp eyes darted up – lingering with a soft smile at their clasped hands, before quickly hardening as he took in Eggsy’s pale skin and the dark shadows nestled beneath Harry’s eyes – over the glasses perched on the tip of his nose. “Honestly, why is it always you two?” he seethed, and Eggsy was taken aback by the genuine ire in the man’s voice.

Harry puffed his chest out and drew breath to retort, but Merlin blathered on, steadily working himself into a spitting frenzy. “At this rate I’m gonna ‘ave to attach name tags to the beds so nobody takes yer spot-”

“Merlin-” Harry warned.

The bald man began shuffling about the room, muttering waspishly to himself, heedless of Harry’s perturbed voice. “Or maybe I’ll just install revolving doors-”

Eggsy’s shoulders shook with the effort of containing his laughter, as he coughed to hide a snicker and reached his free hand out to the other man. “Merlin ple-”

“I mean, fer Chrsit’s sake, you two spend most of yer time standin’ over the other’s deathbed – s’nea healthy.” The Handler came to rest at the foot of Eggsy’s bed, the heels of his palms pressed against his hips, and the fury pinching his face was belayed by the fondness – _worry_ – in his eyes. 

“Merlin?” Harry sighed, feeling the tension drain from his shoulders as the bald man loomed over them – trying his very best to look intimidating in the face of his obvious desire to collapse with relief. 

“Hmm?” Merlin’s eyes flicked up from where he’d been prodding Eggsy’s chest – much to the younger man’s chagrin.

“Where’s the baby?”

The other man blinked, briefly glancing to the floor as if he expected to find the child standing there. His eyes widened as Harry’s face fell and he raised a hand. “Oh - I’ve left her with Kay for a moment, we’ve got to talk.”

_Shit. Fucking shit._

Eggsy frowned, his eyes darting between the man gripping his hand and the other gripping a clipboard. “What’s going on?” he asked, with a strange sinking feeling that he wouldn’t like the answer.

Merlin glanced at Harry expectantly, and the older agent shook his head. “I haven’t had time to tell him yet,” he admitted. Merlin’s brows lifted a fraction, his eyes remaining fixed on Harry’s face, waiting patiently for the agent to abate the apprehension radiating from the man sitting stiffly in the bed between them.

Harry nodded, and lifted his other hand to encase Eggsy’s. He tore his eyes from Merlin’s stern expression, and startled - guilt settling in his chest – at the fear he found twisting his lover’s mouth, and pulling at the creases between each brow.

“We’re making the announcement,” he explained. “You’ve no idea how relieved I am that you’re here, safe, I don’t think I’d have had the strength to do it without you.”

_The fact that he wouldn’t have had the strength to make it through the last seven months went unsaid – but was earnestly felt, and understood, by both men._

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eggsy answered softly, a secret smile pulling at his lips – a smile Harry hadn’t seen in what felt like an age, and the older man allowed himself to bask in its warmth.

Merlin cleared his throat and tried not keep his mouth pursed in a tight line, but _dear God_ , they weren’t making it easy for him.

_An’ I’ll be damned if I start snifflin’._

The two men turned to him expectantly – Eggsy still grinning like a loon, Harry with a wave of dread rippling across his face now that he wasn’t centre of Eggsy’s attention – and Merlin shook his head gravely. “No, but he is. Five minutes Harry - they’re all set up.”

Harry stiffened. “Who the hell told them I was here?”

“Rabelais saw you heading this way, an’ he’s been chompin’ at the bit to get this over with,” Merlin all but snarled towards the door, beyond which the Frenchman was undoubtedly waiting for them to leave. He dropped the clipboard onto Eggsy’s bed and ran his blunt nails over his skull, clasping the back of his neck tightly and chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. Harry waited in silence for the other man to speak. 

When he did, he let his arms fall back to his sides as he sighed with defeat. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Harry, but I actually agree with the wee toad.”

Harry nodded soberly. “Has anyone prepared anything?”

“Aye, but I know you won’t read it,” the bald man smirked.

Harry tried to smile – he really did – but it fell into a grimace as he turned to Eggsy. “Then I don’t really have a choice do I?” He gripped the younger man’s hand and released it, leaning forwards to press his lips against Eggsy’s. He smiled at the blonde’s response against his cheek.

“I’m right here Harry, an’ I’ll still be right here when you get back.”

“Thank you, my dear,” whispered the older man, as Merlin collected his clipboard and – after a final pass of his critical eye at Eggsy’s machines – ushered his friend from the room.

Eggsy’s hand was raised in farewell as they passed through the door, and with a cursive glance over his shoulder, Merlin caught sight of Roxy slipping in behind them, tablet in hand. He dipped his head in thanks, and firmly pressed his broad hand to the small of Harry’s back – who seemed to be having a difficult time persuading his legs to move him around the corner and into the hallway.

Not for the first time, Harry found himself wondering if this was how a condemned man felt, walking to the room at the end of his cell-block, his fellow inmates caterwauling and jeering as he passed by. 

_The silence of the corridor didn’t seem so very different._

Was this sickening tightness in his gut what livestock experienced – if they were indeed capable of such complex understanding – while being led to the slaughterhouse?

_Was this what Eggsy felt, on his way to confront Eagle?_

Because this was certainly how Harry felt, making his way towards his office, knowing that behind the heavy wooden doors he would find a crowd – those whom he had come to depend on, and those he had come to loathe – waiting to hear him speak.

As his hand rested above the brass knob he began to wonder how Merlin had staged the whole palaver. He stopped and gripped the cool, yellow knob tightly as he realised that he didn’t know if there be a laptop - with a simple camera and microphone to record his message – or an entire crew – Merlin’s media technicians – running various cameras and lights and speakers and screens.

He turned the knob and pressed his other hand against the wood, feeling the door give way beneath his palm, and a sting of dread racing along his spine.

_Who would be watching? Would Rousseau let Rabelais stay? Would be Piedmont be there to smile kindly at him from behind the camera lens while he fumbled with paper and the buttons of his jacket?_

The door swung open to gently bump against a cabinet behind it, and Harry steeled himself to make his entrance, determined that not a single twitch of his eye or tremor in his fingers would betray him.

_But who else would stand and stare?_

Harry stood frozen in the doorway – _no one, apparently_ – and gazed around the empty room. Nothing more than a single camera was set up in the centre of the rug before the desk, and one – albeit outdated – microphone sat atop his desk. The window was closed, the drapes drawn, and a soft, yellow glow came spilling down from the chandelier overhead. 

Harry was overcome with relief at finding himself alone in a space entirely his own, the technological additions having been arranged in the most unobtrusive way, and he could not help but smile at the familiar scene.

“Why does my office look ready to broadcast the Queen’s Christmas speech?” he huffed, turning with a half-hearted glower to the figure behind him, expecting to find Merlin relishing in his disgruntlement. 

He froze, slack-jawed and stared, because the figure in the door was not Merlin at all - not unless he’d shrunk a good two feet, and sprouted a mop of auburn hair and certain _womanly_ attributes to match.

“Well, I was thinking more like the _King’s_ speech, but hey – if you wanna be the Queen, I’m not gonna judge.” 

Cherry-red lips pulled over a set of very white teeth, and Harry rushed forwards into arms spread wide to embrace him.

The scent of something sweet and soft filled his nose as he laughed into her hair. “Barbara?” he grinned, bewildered and delighted all at once.

The smaller woman drew back from his chest and stared into his disbelieving face, smiling warmly at him for a moment, before lifting her hand and swatting at his head. “Did you really think I was gonna let you do this by yourself? _Harry_ – I’m hurt.” 

She clutched her chest and pouted, and Harry found himself laughing unexpectedly for the second time that evening. “Did you come back with the others?”

“I couldn’t surrender Blondie to the clutches of that _butcher_ you call a doctor without making sure he met my standards,” she quipped, flicking a scrap of lint from Harry’s shoulder with a pointed, false nail.

_Harry absently wondered whether they were sharpened into claws for the aesthetic, or for some nefarious purpose._

Merlin’s snort of derision came from over her shoulder, and she slowly rolled her arm back as she pivoted on pointed toes to leer at the man in the door. 

“Washington.” Merlin greeted her with sour look, a look one would favour a bug with, had it fallen into one’s untouched cup of tea.

The derision was undoubtedly mutual, given Washington’s sneer, and Harry despaired at the thought of having to intervene in another argument.

_The last had been so vicious in fact, that it had taken five years for either of them to agree to speak to the other._

Preempting the first blow, Harry maneuvered himself between the two and smiled at them both in turn.

“Thank you, for being here,” he offered Washington, as he clasped her shoulder. “And thank you for keeping everyone else away,” he turned to Merlin, frowning as the other man smirked.

“Not _everyone_ exactly.” He pointed to Harry’s pocket, and the other man glanced down to find the glasses he had tucked in there earlier sticking out. He plucked them from his jacket and slipped them on, still frowning at Merlin.

The lines around his eyes and mouth smoothed into a grateful smile as a voice he longed to hear sounded over his feed.

_‘Told ya I weren’t goin’ nowehere, love.’_

Washington bobbed her head and flounced from the room with a promise to find him later, and as Harry watched her prance along the hallway and turn right – instead of position herself outside the door to wait for him - he rather thought he knew who she was going to find now.

He was drawn from that happy thought my Merlin’s heavy hand leading him to his desk. As promised, there was a predetermined statement resting presumptuously on the desk, and as presumed, Harry elected to ignore it. He swept the papers into a drawer without so much as a second glance, and turned his eyes to the man standing behind the camera.

“Will you be-” he began, yet found himself lacking the strength to finish the question should the answer be the one he feared.

Merlin nodded slowly, “I will,” and Harry could breathe again.

He knew what to do, of course, they’d all been prepped in making this type of broadcast - _wait for the signal, speak, wait for the signal, and stop_ \- except this time, the audience wasn’t a boardroom full of other agents, or a group of young hopefuls trying to pass a test in real time.

The audience was global, and knowing Merlin's fondness for hacking satellites, there wasn't a single person alive who wouldn't get the message.

The weight of his task seemed to suddenly settle on his shoulders, and Harry reached into the drawer he had just stuffed his statement in. He drew the paper out and smoothed it with the flat of his palm, ignoring Merlin’s knowing look, and with a deep inhale, he cleared his throat and focused on Merlin’s raised hand. 

The blinking red light on the camera unnerved him, and as he stared through the lens he was struck with a peculiar sense of familiarity, and for one terrible moment, he felt as though he were once again staring into the barrel of Valentine’s gun.

Merlin’s hand lifted – _once, twice_ – and fell out of sight.

And Harry began to read.

“The following message is of the utmost importance. Do not be alarmed if you are hearing this-"

He fumbled through the words of the first paragraph, growing quieter as his eyes sped across the printed lines – _lies_ – of his statement. This wasn’t what he’d asked for. This was a means of pacifying the frightened public, offering the same _utter shit_ on a silver spoon that broadcasting companies had been trying to placate them with since V-Day, and forcing them to open their mouths and swallow. 

Harry was furious. He was also distantly aware of Merlin’s faint hiss of _‘Arthur! Arthur?’_ from behind the camera, and Eggsy’s quiet murmur in his ear.

_‘Harry?’_

He stopped altogether and clutched at the paper before him, the edges crumpling in his tight grip.

_“Arthur!”_

_‘Harry?’_

Harry lifted his eyes to the camera lens, and the shrill, angry ringing in his ears stopped, and suddenly he was telling them the truth. 

Reams and reams of it came spilling from his lips, and once he started he found he could not stop himself. Within three minutes Harry had told the world everything the agency had been keeping from them – and was still trying too, apparently. 

His voice grew steadier, more confident, as he set his shoulders and dissuaded the fears of million – _not enough, should be more_ – whilst, unbeknownst to him, all who were left were hanging on his every word.

“The time has come for someone capable to step in and guide you until your own leaders are able to take control again. The world is in a fragile state, and we – the Kingsmen - have the means to stabilise it. We will work _with_ your governments to ensure that the atrocities of last summer will never be committed again. We will continue to do as we always have done. We will protect you.”

Merlin’s hand shot out from his side and Harry caught the apology that was on the tip of his tongue.

_I’m sorry we didn’t do so sooner._

Silence enveloped him as Merlin tapped furiously away at his tablet, and Harry reached up to clasp his fingers against the leaping pulse in his neck. Blood rushed through his head, and it was only the sound of someone clearing their throat that stopped him from sinking onto the desk with relief.

‘ _That went well_ ,’ came Eggsy’s chipper voice over the feed, just as Merlin stepped out from behind the camera and offered a brief, surprised applause.

“D’ye know that actually _wasn’t_ terrible? Well done Harry.”

Harry sniffed delicately and spread his arms out – palms aloft - with a self-assured smirk to mask the churning in his stomach. 

_‘That went well?’_

_It was all he could do to hope._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more left after this, and the final chapter will be published separately for reasons that will be revealed in due course >:D


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Hart had always welcomed change with open arms and a ready embrace – but this time he was perfectly content for things to stay just as they were.
> 
> Just as they should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to take a moment to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the support you've given me - I never expected this much positivity and you've all been incredible x

“Has he got his painkillers?”

“I made sure of it, _and_ I’ve got some spare - just in case.”

"Well has he got-"

Harry cut her off with a soft click of his tongue and a gentle hand on her shoulder. As Michelle turned to him, he brought his other hand up to clasp her upper arm. "Michelle," he began softly, running the pads of his thumbs along the wool of her cardigan, "he'll be just fine."

At his encouraging smile, the flustered woman in front of him nodded and pressed the sides of her forefingers against her damp eyes. She sniffed delicately, and blinked as she peered up at Harry with a queer little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

_She's gotten used to having him here._

"I- fine, but don't look at me like that 'Art," she scolded as she drew back.

Harry smiled fondly at her as he pulled her closer again and pressed a kiss to her cheek, before squeezing her shoulders and moving off towards the stairs. Michelle watched him go with a shake of her head, and wandered back over to the kitchen, where her toddler was devastating her nice clean floors with an upturned bowl of Rusk and banana.

He paused half-way up the curving stairs to listen to the baby's cooing - and Michelle's grumbling - with a private smile and the warm glow of contentment spreading through his chest, and as he reached the top, he began distractedly fiddling with the knot of his tie.

_He shouldn't have let Sophie 'examine' it._

His brow furrowed as he undid and retied the knot, and as he reached up to flatten the stark white corners of his collar against the dark navy of his suit, a pair of thin hands appeared above his shoulders. Fingers traced along she sharp lines of his shoulders and down his arms, and Harry watched a smirk pull at his reflection's lips as Eggsy's arms looped around his waist and hugged him firmly - yet carefully enough not to wrinkle his suit.

He felt the warmth of the younger man's chest press against his back, the point of the blonde's chin coming to rest between his shoulder blades. 

"She done fussin'?" Eggsy murmured softly.

Harry addressed the tips of Eggsy's fingers as they danced across his sides - his touch light and playful, and Harry was trying not to flinch at the threat of those deft fingers skimming in between his ribs.

"She'll never be done fussing," he murmured good-naturedly as he grinned at the reflection of Eggsy's hairline - just visible over his shoulder - and covered the blonde's hands with his own. Eggsy's weight pressed further against Harry's back as the younger man stood on his toes to peer over Harry's shoulder and watch him fiddle with the flashes of gold at his cuffs.

"You'll do," Eggsy purred, his eyes lingering on the subtle curve of Harry’s lips as the older man’s dark gaze wandered over his own.

Harry – careful to keep a hold of the younger man’s hands in his own long fingers – swivelled suddenly to face the blonde, and - with one hand skill fully untangling itself from Eggsy’s grip - caught his partner’s waist to steady him. 

Eggsy’s brief exclamation of surprise was muffled by the gentle press of Harry’s lips over his own, and after allowing himself a moment to huff, he felt himself smiling into the kiss.

Harry’s broad hand pressed against the small of his back and pushed him closer to the older man’s chest, and Eggsy began to chuckle against Harry’s lips as he struggled to free his hands from their trap behind his back.

“Harry – _mmph_ -” 

“No.”

_“Harry, ple-”_

“Hush - I said no.” 

At Eggsy’s snort of laughter, Harry stepped back with a sigh and gazed fondly down at the younger man, relinquishing his hold on the thin wrists and placating the blonde with another soft kiss.

Eggsy beamed back at him as he shook his head and stood on his toes again, bracing both hands on Harry’s shoulders.

“Daft bugger,” he whispered against Harry’s cheek.

As Harry was considering nipping the sharp line of jaw that was pressed tantalisingly close to his lips, Michelle’s voice drifted up the stairs with a warning.

“You two don’ stop fawnin’ over each other, you’re gonna be late again!”

Eggsy grinned against the meat of Harry’s cheek and paused long enough to rub the length of his nose against the freshly shaven skin, before stepping back and rolling his eyes, only to reach for the bannister to steady himself at his mother’s next indignant yell.

“Don’ you roll your eyes at me, Eggsy boy!”

The blonde turned to call a similarly indignant answer down the staircase, and Harry took a moment to subtly check that the younger man had managed to dress himself properly for the day – not that he doubted Eggsy, of course, but the man had only just recovered from a very serious injury, if one could say wincing at every movement qualified a recovery.

_But Eggsy would have no more of Merlin’s badgering, and had insisted on returning to work, and Harry wouldn’t dream of offending him with an obvious inspection._

Satisfied that the blonde would pass muster, Harry wandered to his office to retrieve his latest case file and as he plucked the red folder from atop a pile of unanswered mail, he paused to smile at the card in his hand.

_In the wake of his broadcast, and everything that came before, the return to a simple ‘Grab and Go’ was positively refreshing._

“’Arry? You ready?”

Eggsy’s head appeared in the doorway just as Harry was giving the room a final, careful once-over, just to make sure that neither of them had left anything behind, as they both seemed to be in the habit of doing. Ever since Eggsy’s return from the hospital wing – and Merlin’s ever watchful eye - Harry’s office had become a space for both men, with Eggsy somehow acquiring a small desk in the corner and a chair Merlin designed to keep the worst of the strain off his back and stomach.

_In fact_ – Harry mused, as his eyes fell on Sophie’s crayons and paper, and Michelle’s craft magazines and basket of cloth and needles – _without him realising, the room had become something special for all of them._

_All his family._

He found himself smiling at the armchair Michelle had made him lug up the stairs for her – _‘Eggsy’s up there an’ you’re up there an’ he can’t very well lift it – so ‘op to it ‘Art!’ ‘Yes Ma’am.’_ – before he remembered that in a few short days the chair – and the crayons and the paper, and the magazines and basket, and perhaps even Eggsy’s desk – would no longer occupy his office, as his little family finally got a house of their own.

_He felt a pang of something sharp take hold in his chest and tug painfully at his gut as he regretted ever complaining about the space they took up._

Eggsy’s warm hand on his shoulder, and confused concern in his eyes, drew Harry back from the dark turn his thoughts had taken, and he waved the younger man off with a smile as he pulled him towards the door.

“Your darling mother’s right, we really will be late at this rate.”

“Christ,” Eggsy muttered as they reached the bottom of the stairs, “I’ll never hear the end of it if we are, will I?”

Harry paused to shrug himself into his overcoat and grinned. “Not after how much you complained about wanting to go back early.”

Eggsy rolled his eyes again and grabbed his own coat from the rack, before darting into the kitchen to say goodbye to his mum and sister.

As they left the cul-de-sac, Harry was grateful for two things – that Eggsy had had the forethought to call the taxi, and that the world and everyone in it was so preoccupied with getting out of the hammering rain, that no one paid a second glance to the two men in the black car.

_Harry had quickly discovered that his days of peacefully strolling along London’s streets as an average pedestrian were gone for good, and everyone seemed to want to thank him, or touch him._

The former he replied to with a gentle smile and an assurance that all would be well soon, the latter he tried not to flinch back from as he carefully removed errant and eager hands.

As Harry inched as close to the centre of the backseat as his belt would allow, Eggsy was valiantly trying not to press himself against the window to peer out at the grey rivers flowing through the streets, and was struggling to resist the urge to crack the window open just enough to hear the din of thunder that rolled across the rooftops.

Harry nudged him carefully with his elbow and gestured to the switch. 

“If you open it, you’re the one that’s getting wet.”

Eggsy replied with a smirk and slowly pressed the button, lowering the window just a hairsbreadth away from the frame, but it was enough to let the sound of rain drumming on the pavement and bouncing off passing umbrellas to whistle through the car, and Harry found himself relaxing back into his seat, soothed by the rhythmic _pit-pat_ of heavy droplets against the world beyond the warm leather and tortoiseshell interior. 

All too soon – in Eggsy’s opinion – the taxi arrived at the shop, and the two men hurried inside, one for fear of being recognised, and the other hunched over for fear of getting wet. 

_No matter how much he enjoyed the sound of the storm, Eggsy was never that fond of raindrops hitting their mark in the gap between his neck and collar, and running down his back._

As they shucked their sodden coats into the waiting arms of David, Merlin appeared from the stairwell and glided to Eggsy’s side with a stern frown at Harry and a furious mutter about letting invalids travelling in such atrocious weather. Eggsy’s face contorted at his being called an invalid, but Harry shot him a glance and a brief smirk over the bald man’s shoulders as he shook his head, and Eggsy relented to the Magician’s ministrations with little more than a huff.

Another hissed accusation about Harry’s inability to care for Eggsy in his current state left them both bristling, but before either could protest, the tetchy Scot had whisked them both towards dressing room one. 

Without a word, Merlin activated the lift and stood stiff-backed against the wall back, staring straight ahead with his sharp eyes flickering between the pair of them. As the dark, papered walls of the shop disappeared far above their heads, the three men stood in silence while the floor beneath them rumbled, carrying them deep into the bowels of London. The light of shuttle bay flooded into the shaft and Eggsy was grateful for Harry’s gentle hand as he struggled not to slip with wet soles across the polished, tile floor. 

As the heavy metal door rolled shut with a hiss, Merlin turned to Harry and gestured for the file in his hand. Harry passed it over with a frown, watching as Merlin smoothed his broad palm over the surface, smearing droplets of rain into the card.

“I can’t give this to you now-” he began with a sigh, “– something’s come up and you need to see to it personally.”

Harry was disappointed that he had apparently lost the first chance he had to feel like a normal agent again – _as normal as a Kingsmen could feel, at any rate_ – but the disappointment was offset by a greater feeling of unease at Merlin’s urgency, and the repetition of a familiar question in his mind, one that he seemed to be asking himself continually as of late.

_What the bloody hell could have possibly gone wrong now?_

Merlin waited patiently for Harry’s acceptance and was grateful when the other man nodded and settled back in his seat without further protest, seemingly content to hold Eggsy’s hand as the younger man gripped the fabric in his eagerness to get back to a job he adored, and to people who were as good as family. 

_Lord knows Nightingale’s been itchin’ to see him._

Harry’s presence – and his penchant for being absurdly late – didn’t hinder their progress to HQ, as Merlin feared it would. They arrived at the mansion just in time for the Handler to suddenly decide that whatever conversation he’d almost started in the shuttle needed to be finished immediately – he was all but tugging on Harry’s sleeves.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what this is about?” the agent huffed, as the Magician ignored him in favour of retrieving his clipboard, and calling out a gruff _‘Now, Harry,’_ over his shoulder. Harry dismissed the treatment with a cough in the back of his throat, and turned to face the worried young man standing between them.

“I’ll find you later, I promise,” Harry murmured as he stepped into Eggsy’s waiting arms.

He leant forwards – both hands reaching up to cup the younger man’s jaw - to press his lips against Eggsy’s, and as he pulled back, the blonde felt his apprehension subside at the confident warmth in Harry’s eyes.

_Whatever it was, if Harry wasn’t worried, then he had no reason to be either._

Merlin stepped back to allow Harry to pass and – without thinking – turned to Eggsy and slid one long arm around his shoulders, pulling the younger man towards his chest. He stiffened as the blonde stumbled forwards – as though he’d just realised what he was doing – but before Eggsy could try and dispel the awkwardness, Merlin squeezed him gently. Eggsy, loosening after his initial surprise at the openly affectionate gesture, hesitantly pressed his forehead against the older man’s collar bone, and grinned as Merlin whispered somewhere above his head.

“It’s no’ as bad as all that, lad – the old sod’s just being dramatic again.”

“You’re just windin’ ‘im up.”

“Aye.”

Merlin withdrew with a kind smile and without a trace of embarrassment, and Eggsy was struck with the thought that – finally - this was the man he’d glimpsed in a cottage by the river, nestled in a valley far from Kingsman and all it entailed.

_As the Scot turned to leave, Eggsy hoped he was here to stay._

Eggsy followed for a moment, and as the taller man vanished through the glass door and around the same corner Harry had, the younger man turned – hand in pocket – to find Roxy beaming a little further down the corridor behind him. Percival was propped up against the wall next to her, wearing the most _civilian_ jumper Eggsy had ever seen in his life.

_Worse than Harry’s bloody cardigans._

“So, are you two eh, all good then?” the blonde smirked as he approached them.

His friend’s bright, hazel eyes danced in the low light of the corridor – with a curious glance over her shoulder Eggsy realised the lights at the other end were dark, and the two had obviously been still for long while, waiting for him - as she winked at the man beside her. 

“I’ve forgiven him… mostly.”

To Eggsy’s surprise the usually stoic man actually grinned at the barb and pushed himself back from the wall to stand, slouched forwards slightly. His face seemed softer than before, more content, and with a start Eggsy realised that the man hadn’t abandoned only his suit, but his glasses as well. 

_He wasn’t even trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his jumper._

Percival laughed – _laughed_ – as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, fiddling with it for a moment before offering it to Eggsy. 

As the younger man stared openly at the screen, the older reached up to rake his fingers through his hair – free of product for the first time in years. “Trying to stop a mutual friend from bleeding out in front of you _does_ tend to bring two people closer together.”

Eggsy’s wide eyes darted up from the screen. “Mutual- why, _Percy_ , I had no idea you cared.”

“Fuck off Unwin.”

The blonde was helpless to contain his snort of laughter, and the two men shared a strange moment of _something_ , before the younger gestured to the screen in his hand.

“Where did you get this?”

Movement to his left brought Roxy close enough to peer over Eggsy’s arm, and her lips curled softly at the sight of a picture taken not so long ago.

Eggsy, safe and sound in one of Merlin’s beds after the worst injury of his life, with a smile on his face and a hand half-raised in greeting to the camera. Standing at the edge of his bed, wearing a rumpled suit and the most ardent expression of relief she’d ever witnessed, was Percival. 

“I took it,” she murmured with a glance towards the older man.

She remembered slipping the phone from his pocket – the fact that she could without his notice was proof enough of his exhaustion – and taking the picture for him to find later.

_Never before had she seen the man so singly devoted to any one person than he had been on that flight back to England._

Eggsy frowned at Roxy, blue eyes darting suspiciously between the two agents.

“I don’ remember this. Am I awake?”

“Of course you are,” she pointed to his wide eyes and dopy grin.

The blonde peered at the picture again. “Yeah, no - I don’t remember this happening.”

Percival smirked as he held out his hand for the phone. “Of course you don’t – you were too drugged up to remember your own name.”

“Looks pretty early on after the flight, actually it looks like we just got there – you ain’t even changed out ya suit –and Merlin doesn’t usually authorise anyone but ‘im medicatin’ ‘is patients.” 

Roxy shared a look with Percival and bit her lip as he nodded, and with a conspiring whisper leant towards the younger man. “Yes, well this was a special circumstance.”

Unable to contain herself, the youngest agent elbowed Eggsy’s good side and leered at the blonde. “It was the only way we could get you on the plane!”

“Belligerent bugger,” agreed Percival.

Eggsy shrugged his friend off with a playful shove to her arm and thrust his hands back in his pockets again, mirroring Percival’s earlier position against the wall. As Roxy righted herself with a quick shuffle to the right, Eggsy grinned fondly at her and glanced at the clock above Percival’s head.

“Your Dear Lady off then?” he asked, brows wiggling above the rim of his glasses.

Percival snorted as he checked his watch, frowned, then glanced down the corridor in the direction that Harry and Merlin had disappeared, before staring at his wrist again. “She is,” he answered simply.

Eggsy frowned. “Sorry Perc - you gonna miss her?”

The older man peered down the hall a final time before he turned his back to it and came to stand beside Roxy. 

“No.”

Eggsy blinked. “No?”

The two other agents shared an unreadable look, and the younger woman nodded sharply. Percival – having apparently lost whatever silent battle they were engaged in – relented with a sigh and reached up to pinch the bridge of his long nose between his thumb and forefinger. He began rubbing a slow circle as he spoke.

“No. I’m going with her.”

Eggsy balked. “ _What?_ ”

“On a consulting basis only.” The older agent hazarded a peek from behind his fingers and felt a knot – not entirely dissimilar to guilt – settle in his stomach at the sight Eggsy’s torn expression, and the flash of betrayal in those bright, blue eyes. He offered both palms in a gesture of surrender as he lowered his voice to a defeated murmur. “I’m retiring, Eggsy, I’ve had enough.”

“Percival.”

Before Eggsy had a chance to process this new – _unwelcome_ – development, Harry’s cool voice came from somewhere behind Roxy, and all three turned to find their King standing stiffly in the corridor, a sheet of paper that looked suspiciously like the previous Kay’s official resignation – prior to his untimely dispatch – clutched in one hand.

Without further prompting – or so much as a glance in Eggsy’s direction – Harry spun on his heel and marched back the way he came, Percival hot on his heels after an apologetic look and a grimace at the two younger agents.

Eggsy watched them go and felt a pang of sympathy for Percival. A cursive glance to the side, and he saw a reflection of his expression mirrored in Roxy’s pinched face.

“Is he really going’?” he murmured in the sudden quiet of the hall.

Roxy sighed as she tugged on his elbow and pulled him in the other direction. They were silent for a moment as they walked, the clicking of their heels on the marble floor the only sound to distract them from the explosion of vicious yelling coming from Harry’s office, three corridors down. 

They turned another corner and found themselves by a deep-set window overlooking the grounds. Roxy lowered herself onto the cushioned sill and beckoned Eggsy to her side.

_He tried not to wince as he gingerly perched on the edge of the sill._

Roxy noted his flinch, and privately promised to lead him back to Merlin later. “There’s nothing here for him really,” she began, in answer to Eggsy’s question, “and too many bad memories to boot.”

At Eggsy’s nod she continued. “You know how Harry and Merlin are with each other?”

“Yeah.”

“He and Lancelot were exactly the same.”

Eggsy sensed an end to the conversation, and understood that it was beyond his right to pry further. “So we lookin’ for a new Percival then?” he frowned.

Roxy grinned as he grimaced and bent to rest his forehead against his folded arms. “Shit,” he groaned. “Fine – but I ain’t takin’ kit runs this time.”

At the sound of heavy footsteps nearing their secluded corner – and Roxy’s sudden jolt from her seat - Eggsy raised his eyes to find Harry standing over them. The younger man slowly rose to greet him and was taken aback by the thinly-veiled hostility twisting Harry’s features.

_They’ve had it out then._

As Roxy tried – _failed_ – to carry an uncomfortably tense conversation with the older agent, Eggsy slotted himself in beside Harry and reached out to run the pad of his thumb across the back of Harry’s knuckles. The strained muscle at the corner of Harry’s jaw relaxed a fraction, and as Eggsy took in his sour expression and hard eyes, knew exactly what the older man needed.

Without waiting for Harry’s reaction, he took it upon himself to rescue Roxy from the awkward conversation, and slipped his hand into the older man’s, pulling him away from the younger agent and around the corner. Harry’s surprised sputtering was met with a tinkling laughter as Roxy waved them off and darted back down the hall to find Percival – sure that he would need something stronger than a cup of tea after his altercation with the King.

As she found her friend – who presently felt nothing but a euphoric sense of relief at finally having the courage to walk away – Eggsy was dragging Harry down into the basement of the mansion, deeper than the original foundations, into the transport hanger with a wicked gleam in his eye. They reached a hideously yellow and yet strangely familiar car – _the irony of which Harry was sure Eggsy was responsible for_ – and Eggsy, ever the gentlemen, pulled the passenger door open for Harry with as deep a bow as he could manage given his injuries.

Harry felt himself smile at the younger man’s attempts to cheer him up, and realised – as he slid into polished leather and was forced to admit that the interior wasn’t nearly as ghastly as paint job led him to believe – that this would be the first time he’d ever been driven by his partner.

They rolled along a painted track – and not the one Harry would have used to exit the hanger - slowing down considerable as they passed larger vehicles. As Eggsy came to a complete stop three tanks away from the exit ramp, Harry realised that they were essentially stealing the car from under the noses of the security officers, and he spared a thought for the poor devils, hoping that Merlin wouldn’t reprimand them too harshly for failing to notice the sunflower-yellow monstrosity inching its way between the neat lines of the stationary, monochrome collection.

Harry turned his disapproving frown to Eggsy, only to melt at the sight of the blonde’s mischievous, toothy grin. The older man’s upper lip twitched with the effort of reigning in a fond answering smile.

They crept along the exit ramp, and as they rounded the curved cement wall, the tunnel flooded with light. The sky above was as grey as they had left it, but the rain had finally stopped, and while grass around the mansion would undoubtedly be as thick and murky as the bog three miles out, the track before them was covered only by a thin, wet sheen – a testament to Merlin’s meticulous redesign of its drainage system.

Harry barely had time to buckle his seatbelt before the car beneath him roared to life, tyres screeching as Eggsy thrust it into first and drove the accelerator into the floor. He was thrown back into his seat as the younger man cackled with delight. 

The wet track meant nothing to Eggsy, so lost was he in the thrill of controlling a machine so powerful.

Grinning wildly, he chanced a look at Harry, expecting to find the older gripping his seat in terror – as his passengers often were – only to find him staring intensely, barely blinking, as Eggy took them around the estate with practised ease. His eyes were blown wide with something Eggsy was sure wasn’t mere excitement. 

_Fucking hell._

Feeling brave, he skidded them to a halt underneath a copse of trees, a mile out from the mansion itself. No sooner had he killed the engine, were Harry’s hands clutching the back of his head and dragging him forward into a sloppy kiss. Eggsy’s eyes fluttered shut as Harry’s mouth worked its way down his jaw and neck, nipping gently. 

“ _Fuck_ , Harry,” grunted Eggsy, as the older man reached a particularly sensitive point at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He entwined his fingers in Harry’s hair and gave a sharp tug, forcing the older man’s mouth to meet his in a clash of teeth and tongue. He groaned into the kiss as Harry’s hand slipped down the front of his suit to cup him firmly through his trousers.

He pulled back and enjoyed the sensation of Harry’s laboured breath ghosting across his wet lips. “Want you,” he gasped as Harry started moving his hand, thrusting into the delicious friction. 

“Have me,” Harry breathed, reaching forward to catch Eggsy’s lip between his teeth and biting down gently. 

Eggsy struggled with his belt, only to clutch the edges of his seat as he was suddenly lowered back. With a pleasant shudder racing along his spine he realised what was about to happen, as Harry climbed astride his hips and began rolling himself against Eggsy.

Long fingers ghosted across his chest, and the bandages hidden by his shirt, as Harry lowered his mouth to Eggsy’s ear. “Got to be careful of these,” he whispered, breath hitching as Eggsy’s hands came up to grip his hips tightly, and forced his straining crotch harder against the younger man’s.

“We got time?” grunted the blonde beneath him, the gruff sound quickly escaping his throat in a low moan as he realised that Harry was already working on the fastenings of both their trousers.

“We have time.”

Eggsy shuddered with another breathy moan – _that he refused to describe as wanton, no matter how Harry would later label it_ \- as Harry rocked against him. Shakily, Eggsy reached for the glove compartment to his left, grinning wildly as he caught the latch and plucked a small bottle and bright blue packet from behind the log book.

He dangled his prizes in front of Harry’s eyes, and at the older agent’s raised brow, leered and slowly brought his lips to Harry’s ear.

“It’s my car, love.”

Harry grasped the offered bottle and dropped the packet on the seat beside them, humming with pleasure as the warmth of the endearment washed over him.

_Love._

He kept his eyes – dark, pupils blown wide with a fierce hunger – fixed on Eggsy’s, and preened as he saw his want reflected in the startling blue. The same eyes shuttered closed for a brief moment at the stutter of the older man’s hips against his as Harry’s fingers breached his own entrance, and opened – half-lidded – to feast on the sight of the brunette working himself open for his younger lover.

Eggsy reached for Harry, huffing as the older man batted his hands away, and – impatient for the tight, wet heat he knew was coming – fumbled with the foil packet, a soft hiss escaping from his clenched teeth as he rolled the condom over his straining length. 

He was already slick with the thick, clear string that had beaded the head of Harry’s cock and dripped onto his own.

Slowly, carefully, Harry lowered himself onto Eggsy, until he felt the taught muscles in the blonde’s thighs brush against his backside. The older man set a gentle rhythm – the earlier urgency of his grasping hands forgotten in his determination not to hurt his partner – and as Eggsy reached up to grasp Harry’s waist, fingers brushing the fabric of the shirt Harry still wore.

Eggsy palmed Harry’s sides as the older man rocked above him, breathless in the face of his gentleness, and feeling for the first time in weeks, thoroughly _loved_.

To neither’s great surprise – after having been unable to share in each other for so long - they didn’t last long.

Eggsy grunted, fingers digging nails into Harry’s waist, as spent himself inside the older man, reaching out just in time to cup the head of Harry’s cock and catch his release before it could spatter his shirt and bandages. 

The older man collapsed against him – arms braced on the back of the seat to keep the weight off Eggsy’s bandaged chest – in a panting, boneless heap. The blonde stroked the back of Harry’s head as the older man lifted himself off, and Eggsy slipped free with a hiss at the sensation.

They stared at one another - trousers clinging to their damp thighs, shirts rucked up and irreparably wrinkled - and shared a smile, content to gently card fingers through hair and over skin, until Merlin’s gruff – yet faintly amused – voice sounded over the radio.

“If you two’ve quite finished, I need ye both back in – _now_.”

With a shaky laugh Harry dipped to steal a languid kiss from Eggsy’s frowning lips – the younger man wondering how on earth Merlin had managed to modify the car without his knowing – and slowly withdrew, mouth stretched wide in a grin that dimpled his cheeks.

Eggsy’s hand came up to cup one side of his face, as the other reverently traced the length of Harry’s nose, fingertips lingering over kiss-reddened lips. They took a moment to admire the sight of each other, before ruefully righting themselves and making their way back to Merlin.

If they were a few minutes slower than expected, then it was only because Eggsy wanted to enjoy the sight of Harry’s profile – flushed, brunette hair curling at the ends and falling over his forehead – for a few minutes more.

The Magician met them in the foyer of the mansion and escorted the puzzled men back to the shuttle dock. 

_Harry was grateful for Merlin’s – obviously – carefully planned route that was blessedly free of any prying eyes._

As they entered the dock, Merlin turned to them and – to Harry’s shock, and relief – made no further comment on their passionate excursion, save for a lingering smirk at the sight of their dishevelled appearances.

He eyes the two men carefully before slowly sliding into the chair at his monitoring station.

“Go home,” he smiled softly, as he jerked his head in the direction of the waiting shuttle.

Eggsy’s eyes widened as he turned his blinding grin to Harry, while the older man’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?” 

Merlin huffed through his nose as he levelled them with a knowing look. “You need to cool off, Harry, you’ve a meeting with Security Council in the morning, and the Cabinet Ministers after that, and anyway – Eggsy shouldn’t even be here, never mind having a quickie in the backseat of the company sports car.”

Their retorts came as one. 

“ _Actually_ it’s my car.”

“ _Actually_ it was the front seat.” 

_Merlin wasn’t in the least bit surprised at the crass reply, only that it came from Harry and not the smirking blonde._

With a gruff dismissal, Harry and Eggsy boarded the shuttle and began their journey home, fingers entwined and feeling far more relaxed than they had been on their way to the mansion that morning. Eggsy bundled himself into the seat beside Harry, and within minutes was cuddled as close as the arm of the chair would allow.

Harry grinned as the younger man pressed his head against his shoulder, “You might as well just climb into my lap, Darling,” and lifted his arms clear as the blonde proceeded to do just that.

Once Eggsy was settled on Harry’s knee - curled against his chest with sigh and a beatific curl in his upper lip – the older man brought his arms firmly around his partner, hugging him close and enjoying the silence in the carriage. 

It was - apart from their detour with the car, and not even then with Merlin’s apparent spying - the first moment they had truly had to themselves.

The shuttle slid into the dock at the shop and Eggsy unfurled himself from Harry’s lap, wincing only slightly at the twinge in his torso, before holding his hands out to pull Harry from his seat. 

As the stepped onto the platform, they noticed two, fresh suits had been laid out on the bench nearby, and Harry grinned as he realised Merlin must have called ahead. The dressed quickly, eager to reach the house and collapse in the living room - or kitchen, if there was food on offer – eager to be home.

_Home._

The contented creature in Eggsy’s chest purred at the thought of it.

They bade farewell to the host of tailor’s listening eagerly to their leader’s instructions, and as they stepped onto the shimmering street, Eggsy wondered if any of the fresh, new faces knew what Kingsman really was.

The clouds had emptied themselves of their heavy a few hours before, and all that was left of the sudden storm was a steady stream of water flowing from the street into the grates in the middle of Harry’s cul-de-sac. 

A stream that Eggsy gleefully danced through as they made their way to the front door. At Harry’s exasperated sigh – offset by the utter adoration in his soft, brown eyes - he turned and grinned, gesturing to his now soaking shoes. 

“I’ll take them off when I get in.”

Getting in, however, was a problem when Michelle – wide-eyed and fit to burst with her news – was excitedly crowding the doorway.

She didn’t even wait for them to reach her before she called out with a wave and a cheerful clap. 

“It’s ready! The house is ready!”

_Eggsy’s heart skipped a beat._

_Harry’s plummeted into his stomach._

The younger man echoed her joyful cry as he rushed to embrace his mother, and – standing back from the excitable pair and their indecipherable chattering – Harry turned to the left to eye the neighbouring building with a baleful glare.

“Didn’t you see? They’ve taken all the scaffolding away from the front.” 

_Harry doesn’t need to admit to Michelle that he was enjoying the sight of Eggsy playing in the puddles too much to notice anything else – for she was doing the same from the living room window._

Eggsy turned to share his grin with Harry, only to find the older man much further away than he expected, standing - grey and still in the quiet afternoon light - face pinched as he stared at the new home. Eggsy’s smile faded as a crease formed between his brows, and he pulled away from his mother to shuffle closer to Harry.

A tight know formed in his chest as an uneasy feeling settled in his gut.

_What did this mean for them?_

He reached Harry's side and quietly slipped his fingers into the older man’s hand, growing worried as Harry turned his face to Eggsy and regarded him with the same pinched expression as he did the house before them.

“Harry?” he murmured softly.

Harry Hart was not prone to blurting out whatever thought crossed his mind, but in that moment – faced with Eggsy’s solemnly worried eyes and the thought of losing his little family - he found couldn’t control himself any longer.

“Stay with me.”

_Oh, Harry._

Eggsy blinked, visibly relaxing as he brought his other hand around Harry’s front to clasp the older man’s fingers in his own. “I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to,” he smiled reassuringly.

_Never._

Harry’s throat coughed out a peculiar noise - a sort of exasperated tut – as he shook his head. “No, not you-” he balked at Eggsy’s indignant expression and darted forwards to peck his cheek “ -well yes - of _course_ you, my Darling-” he pacified as he released Eggsy and rushed to the woman in the door “-but please, Michelle?”

Blessedly the clever – _wonderful_ – woman – _mother_ – heard his unspoken question and turned her assessing eye to the whitewashed brick of what was to be her new home.

Her eyes wandered back to Harry’s earnest, hopeful face, and she allowed herself a wicked moment to tease him, before relenting and easing his apprehension with an exaggerated sigh and a slow tap of her perfectly manicured fingers against her chin.

Michelle answered him slowly, deliberately as she pointed at the house. “’Ow pissed off you s’pose they’d be if we ask ‘em to knock through a wall?”

Eggsy’s perplexed cry of _‘Eh?’_ behind him tore a laugh from Harry’s chest as relief overwhelmed him and he hurried forwards to surround Michelle – with her arms outstretched and waiting, and her knowing smile twinkling in her eyes – in a tight embrace, pressing a firm kiss to each powdered cheek. The woman in his arms giggled as he pulled back and stroked her thumb across his cheek.

“There, there, Dear Heart,” she murmured with a pat.

Happier than he’d ever felt in his life, Harry positively bounded back to Eggsy and didn’t bother to restrain his barking laugh at his slack-jawed confusion, sweeping – carefully, conscious of the injury that had almost taken Harry’s entirely perfect world from him – the younger man into his arms and kissing him deeply.

As quickly as he’d come, he deposited Eggsy back on unsteady feet and dipped past Michelle into the hallway - waving a hand at the cooing toddler in her playpen in the living room, his heart bursting with a giddy kind of joy he hadn’t experienced in years – to snatch the phone from its cradle and with shaking fingers, call for Merlin.

As the Handler’s gruff brogue greeted him in one ear, Michelle’s warning cry – ‘ _But we are seriously ‘aving a word about the décor, Harry!_ ’ – and Eggsy’s repeated grunt, closer to the door this time – ‘ _Eh?_ ’ – drifted through his other.

Michelle sighed fondly at her clueless son, and Eggsy’s silent confusion was broken with a cheer as the pieces _finally_ slotted into place, and Sophie mumbled in quiet awe at the excitement around her, and the older man’s heart fluttered.

Harry Hart had always welcomed change with open arms and a ready embrace – but this time he was perfectly content for things to stay just as they were.

_Just as they should be._

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up at [trashbagauthor](http://trashbagauthor.tumblr.com/) if you fancy updates about this fic verse, my other fics, and some original work of my own!
> 
> So I have fallen head over arse in love with these characters and did not expect to come out of that film shipping Hartwin as much as I did, but here we are. 
> 
> update: there are now about 20 chapter prompts on my phone so there goes the 10 chapter fic plan.....
> 
> updated update: the 20 chapter plan may also have just been flung from the window by a longer chapter plan...sorry
> 
> updated updated update: Final chapter count is 25, but 24 will be in this fic and the other will be published separately as an epilogue!


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